The Time of Roses
by Paimpont
Summary: Harry travels back to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR and...?
1. Chapter 1

**~The Time of Roses~**

**...**

**Summary: **Harry travels back to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR and...?

**Author's Note: **This is a **Challenge-fic, **written for UbiquitousTime's amusing _The Beginning of the End _challenge. The line I was assigned will appear as the final line of this story. (Sorry, I couldn't make it the first. That would have given away too much!) I won't tell you yet what that line was; otherwise I would spoil the ending of the story. This fic will have ten chapters, and they will all be posted before the challenge deadline of September 5. Yes, that means _very_ fast updates!

(For those who are following my other Tom/Harry story _Surrender: _The next chapter of that story will be posted soon. I also have also just posted the first chapter of an original fantasy story on FictionPress - see the link in my profile. Constructive criticism and feedback would be deeply appreciated!)

**Warning: **Rated M for slash (homoerotic romance) between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, with a little interference from... Well, you will see!

...

_It was not in the Winter_

_Our loving lot was cast; _

_It was the time of roses - _

_We pluck's them as we pass'd!_

_That churlish season never frown'd_

_On early lovers yet: _

_O no - the world was newly crown'd_

_With flowers when first we met!_

_'Twas twilight, and I bade you go, _

_But still you held me fast; _

_It was the time of roses - _

___We pluck's them as we pass'd!_

(Thomas Hood: "Time of Roses")

...

**~Chapter 1~**

**...**

"Sweet Merlin - where did _you_ spring from?" The tall, lanky boy in Slytherin robes stared at Harry as though he were some sort of ghostly apparition. "I swear you weren't here a moment ago. Did you just apparate here? How did you do _that? _I didn't think people _could _apparate onto the Hogwarts grounds."

"Oh..." Harry slipped the golden time-turner hastily inside his robes. "I'm... I'm afraid I got lost," he muttered vaguely. "The school grounds are so vast, I lost my bearings. I'm a new student. My name is Harry Black."

"_Harry_ Black?" A slow grin spread over the Slytherin boy's face. "Well, that's a rather nice change from all the solemn names of distant stars and constellations the Blacks usually inflict on their children. Your parents must have had a bit of common sense - a rather rare trait among the Blacks! Which branch of our family are you from?"

_Our family? _Harry suppressed a groan. Perhaps claiming to be a member of the Black family hadn't been such a great idea, after all. Perhaps he should have put a little more thought into his cover story. Hermione would of course have spent months doing careful research before traveling into the distant past, wouldn't she? But Harry had been so excited to find that a time-turner had mysteriously showed up in his school trunk the day Dumbledore had died that he had never stopped to draw up a detailed plan. He had thought for a few minutes about how far to spin the delicate clockwork, but the answer had seemed obvious: He had to go back to the time before Tom Riddle had committed his first murder. And then he had to kill him. It had seemed fairly simple, really.

"Which branch-? I'm not sure." Harry felt himself flush a little. "My parents were always a little vague about that part."

He held his breath, but apparently the Slytherin boy seemed to find his answer quite reasonable. "Can't say I blame them. Most Blacks are _way_ too obsessed with the family tree. I don't think it's healthy." He smiled at Harry. "My name is Alphard, by the way. Alphard Black."

Harry grinned back and shook the boy's hand. _Alphard Black - Sirius' uncle? The one who was blasted off the family tree? _He seemed like a good sort, Harry decided.

"Come, I'll show you to the headmaster's office." Alphard took Harry's arm. "Professor Dippet will want to see you at once, I'm sure. You'll have to get sorted, too, I suppose, just like the other new boy."

"The _other_ new boy?" Harry followed his guide across the familiar Hogwarts lawns towards the castle. He glanced around, trying desperately to orient himself. _Spring. It feels like spring. Yes, it must be; I can smell something sweet and fragrant, like roses. _

Harry hoped he had landed in the right year. He had aimed for 1941 or 1942, but those strange little marks on the time turner had been terribly confusing.

"Yes, there was another new boy who arrived here a few weeks ago. Strange, that people keep arriving so late in the year! The other new boy is a Black, too, Arcturus Black. He's in fifth year, like me." Alphard's dark eyes glittered. "He was sorted into _Gryffindor, _can you believe it? His parents must have been in shock when he told them."

"He was sorted into _Gryffindor?" _Harry stared at Alphard. _Wait, how can that be right? I thought Sirius will be the first Black to be sorted into Gryffindor House? _

"That's right. Too bad, actually. I would have enjoyed his company in Slytherin; he seems like such a decent chap. Most of the other Slytherin students are... Well, I suppose they are all right, mostly, but they do go on and _on _about their high ancestral names and the purity of their blood and things of that sort. And then this new boy from the Ancient and Noble House of Black comes and gets himself sorted into Gryffindor! It _was_ rather funny, seeing everyone's faces when they found out. I thought old Slughorn, the potions master, would have had an apoplectic stroke when he heard." Alphard sighed. "Arcturus turned out to be a great Quidditch player, too. I swear he's even better than that Moody boy! The Gryffindor team captain, John Lupin, made Arcturus seeker as soon as he saw him on a broomstick. Slytherin House was all set to win the Quidditch Cup before, but now it looks as if all bets are off."

"Really?" Harry was feeling more and more confused. _Arcturus Black, the Gryffindor seeker? Why have I never heard of him?_

"Do you play Quidditch at all?" Alphard looked hopefully at Harry.

Harry couldn't help smiling. "I do, yes."

"Excellent!" Alphard lit up. "Let's play after dinner, shall we? Tom will want to see if you are any good."

"Tom-?" Harry felt a slight shiver at his spine.

"Tom Riddle. He's the Slytherin Quidditch captain, even if he's only a fifth year. Which year will you be in?"

"Fifth," said Harry quickly. Back in his own time, he had finished his sixth year at Hogwarts, but in _this_ time, he had better get as much access to Riddle as possible. He made a quick calculation in his head. If Riddle was in fifth year, this must be... 1942? Yes, that seemed right.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen."

Harry glanced up, startled, at the sound of a familiar voice. Dumbledore - a much younger Dumbledore, whose hair was still auburn - was beaming at the two boys. Harry's heart leaped with sudden joy. He felt like bursting out: "You are alive!", but he bit his lip.

"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore." Alphard greeted the teacher with a smile. "This is a new student, Harry Black. He got lost out on the grounds, so I thought I'd better bring him to the headmaster."

"_Another_ new student?" Dumbledore regarded Harry thoughtfully over the edge of his half-moon spectacles. "Well, well, well! Life seems to be full of surprises these days. Delighted to make your acquaintance, Harry Black! You can run along now, Alphard - I will bring Harry to Professor Dippet myself."

"All right. See you later, Harry!"

"Bye, Alphard."

As soon as the Slytherin boy was out of earshot, Harry took a deep breath and turned to Dumbledore. "I'm sure this must seem terribly odd to you, sir, but I have a very strange favor to ask you. You see, I am..."

"A time-traveler from a distant future with an important mission to fulfill at this moment in time?" Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled.

Harry sputtered. "How... How did you know-?"

"Ah. Well, it what the _other _new boy said... So it's true then?" Dumbledore seemed amused. "Did you bring me a note as well?"

"A note?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Arcturus Black brought me a note, mentioning the great importance of his mission and asking me to assist him in any way I can. It was signed by one "Albus Dumbledore". In _my_ handwriting." He peered at Harry over his glasses. "Do you have a note like that, too, perhaps?"

Harry shook his head slowly. He could feel his mind spinning. "No, sir," he whispered. "When I left my own time, you wouldn't have been able... to write a note..." He swallowed. "You had just died. But I think it was you who left me the time-turner before... before it happened..."

"Hm." Dumbledore regarded him thoughtfully. "Did I?" He was silent for a moment. Then he smiled. "Let me ask you a question instead, then, Harry. A few weeks ago I received an early birthday present from an old friend of mine, a most delightful gift. It was a rather unusual pet. I wonder if you can tell me what sort of pet that was?"

A grin spread over Harry's face. "Fawkes? You just got Fawkes the phoenix?"

Dumbledore inclined his head gravely. "Indeed I did, Harry. I hadn't named him yet, since I was still searching for an appropriate name for the little creature, but now that you mention it, "Fawkes" does have a certain ring to it. Yes, Fawkes he is! Now, let's see... You need me to do you a favor, you say? You will need to be added to the school records, of course, and Professor Dippet will need to be convinced that he _was_ indeed expecting you to arrive at Hogwarts. A little memory charm should do the trick, I would think. And you will need a trunk and some school books. And young Arcturus needed a broomstick as well - what about you, Harry? Are you a Quidditch player too?"

"Yes," whispered Harry. "A broomstick would be good..."

Dumbledore smiled. "I will see what I can do, my young friend. In the meantime, you need to go and see Professor Dippet and get sorted. I assume you are a Gryffindor as well?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I am, yes. I mean, I _will _be. But... But perhaps it would be more advantageous to be sorted into Slytherin this time. I'll talk to the hat about it."

"_Talk_ to the hat?" Dumbledore stared at him for a moment. "You know, that's not a bad idea, Harry! That's quite... cunning. Perhaps there is a bit of Slytherin in you, after all, young Gryffindor."

...

"How'd it go, Harry? Which house did you get?" To Harry's surprise, Alphard was waiting for him outside the headmaster's office when he came out.

Professor Dippet peered out into the hallway. He was a tiny, bewildered little wizard with a wild nest of white hair. "Alphard? Oh, good, you can take Harry to the Slytherin common room and introduce him to the others."

Alphard lit up. "It's Slytherin, then, Harry?"

Harry nodded. _If that's where Riddle is, that's where I'll be. _

"Of course it's Slytherin, Alphard." Dippet chuckled. "_All_ Blacks end up in Slytherin House. Well, except for the curious Arcturus. I have no idea how to account for _him." _He beamed at Harry. "Now, my dear boy, I am _so _sorry that there was no one to meet you at the Hogsmeade Station; I only remembered a little while ago that I was supposed to arrange for that." He sighed. "I'm not as young as I once was, unfortunately, and one does begin to forget things..."

He shook his head sadly and returned to his office.

...

"Look, everyone! Another new student! I found him out on the grounds. And _this _one's in Slytherin!" announced Alphard with an air of breathless triumph. He seemed to want to claim personal credit for Harry's arrival.

The Slytherin students who were gathered in the common room gazed up at Harry with interest.

"This is Harry Black, a distant relative of mine." Alphard sounded quite pleased with this newly discovered family bond. "He's a Quidditch player, too!"

Harry glanced curiously around the Slytherin dungeon, one of the few parts of Hogwarts that was unfamiliar to him. He had only been in the Slytherin common room once, in his own time, and he hadn't spent much time taking in his surroundings then; he has been too busy trying to find out what Malfoy knew about the Heir of Slytherin.

The Slytherin common room lacked the warm cheerfulness of Gryffindor Tower, but it had a certain sombre elegance to it. Dark green tapestries adorned with strange alchemical symbols decorated the walls, and the gleaming mahogany floors had intricate inlays in the shapes of serpents. The furniture was old, elaborately carved in sinuous curves, and upholstered in emerald velvet. Wax candles flickering in magnificent silver candelabras cast the room in a soft golden half-light. On a low table in the middle of the room stood a vase with a single dark red rose, a vivid splash of color among the green-hued shadows.

Harry glanced curiously at the Slytherin students. Alphard was making introductions now, and Harry tried hard to remember all the names. Some of the names and faces were half-familiar: The handsome Cepheus Lestrange and the simpering and insincere Adolphe Avery must be the fathers of the death eaters Harry had met in the future. And the flaxen-haired Abraxas Malfoy must be Draco's grandfather; he had an air of angelic innocence about him that Harry felt certain was quite misleading. The wistful Ambrosius Flume with the large, soulful brown eyes must be the future owner of Honeydukes; Harry remembered meeting him once in the future. And then there was a sweet, brown-haired girl named Jane Selwyn... She looked so horribly like her unborn daughter Dolores Umbridge that Harry shuddered. Next to Jane stood a pale, dark-haired girl. Her face was that of a stranger, but Harry knew her eyes at once: Black as onyx, and curiously cold and lifeless. She had to be Snape's mother, Eileen Prince, as sullen and inscrutable as her future son...

And there were others, many others. Harry could not keep track of them all. But something drew Harry's glance, irresistibly, to the shadowy corner of the room, where a boy was sitting by himself, reading. The boy glanced up for a moment. Slowly, he rose to his feet and stepped out into the flickering candlelight.

Harry felt a shiver at his spine as his glance met the boy's wide silver-grey eyes. For a moment, Tom Riddle looked at Harry as if mesmerized. An expression of wonder brushed over his pale, handsome face. Then he said, in a quiet, all too familiar voice: "Harry Black? I.. I think we have met each other before..."

Harry's mouth felt dry. _Oh, Merlin! He recognizes me. Voldemort knows who I am, before we have even met. This wasn't supposed to happen... Perhaps our strange connection is more powerful than time itself... _He shook his head slowly. "No," he whispered. "I don't think we have met each other yet."

The luminous silver gaze rested on Harry's face. "But you seem so terribly familiar." Suddenly, Tom reached out and brushed Harry's messy hair away from his forehead. "You... you have a scar." His voice was a whisper.

Harry flushed. "Yes. It was... an accident. When I was a baby."

"Was it?" Tom traced his scar lightly with his finger. "How very odd..." Harry half expected to feel the searing pain that had shot through him when Voldemort had touched him in the graveyard, but there was no pain, just a strange tingling sensation.

"What's odd?" Harry tried hard to keep his voice steady, and he forced himself to look into the eyes of the future Voldemort.

A sudden smile danced over Tom's pale face. "Ever since I was a small child, I used to dream of a boy with a scar like this. The boy in my dreams even looked a bit like you, Harry Black. Strange, isn't it?"

"Yes," whispered Harry. "That's very... strange... "


	2. Chapter 2

**~The Time of Roses~**

**...**

**Summary: **Harry travels back to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR.

**Warning: **Rated M for slash (homoerotic romance) between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, with a little interference from Arcturus Black. Whoever _he_ is...

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for reviews and feedback! Constructive criticism is always welcome. _Dalistar123 _brings up several interesting points, but unfortunately, I can't find any references in the Harry Potter canon or in the author interviews on AccioQuote to time-turners only turning time back 24 hours, the precise time in the canon when Dumbledore acquired Fawkes, or to Tom Riddle never playing Quidditch. If someone can find those references for me, I can go back and make any necessary changes. (It's true that the plastic time turner in the Harry Potter sticker kit sold in stores bears the inscription "Nor have I yet outrun the sun", but I'm reluctant to accept anything plastic as canon.)

...

**~Chapter 2~**

The pale wax candles flickering in the silver wall sconces cast their faint sheen over the beds in the Slytherin dormitory. The silver satin sheets shimmered in the candlelight, and the boys' faces were white ovals against their pillows, curiously alike in the dim room.

Harry sat in bed, listening to the quiet, regular breathing of the sleeping boys around him. It was already well past midnight.

_Everyone is sleeping. It is time._

Harry reached under his satin pillow and pulled out his wand, trying desperately to keep his hand from trembling. Silently, he slid out of bed. The black marble floor felt icy under his bare feet. Harry recalled the soft crimson-and-gold carpets of the Gryffindor dormitory with a sudden absurd nostalgia, then cursed himself inwardly. He was about to commit a murder, and he was worried about cold floors?

Tom Riddle's bed was just a few feet away from his own. Harry grasped his wand hard and bent over the sleeping boy, his heart beating furiously in his chest. _Either must die at the hand of the other. This is how it has to be, Tom. I must kill Voldemort. _

Tom stirred slightly in his sleep. His dark eyelashes fluttered against his pale cheeks, but he did not open his eyes.

_Voldemort?_ Harry stood for a moment, studying the face that should have been so familiar. Wasn't there a glimpse of Voldemort's monstrous features in the alarmingly lovely face of the sleeping boy? Perhaps there was a slight resemblance to the Dark Lord of the future in the contours of Tom's face? But Voldemort's face had an unnatural pallid hue, whereas Tom's creamy skin had a slight blush to it, along the cheekbones. Harry tried to imagine crimson eyes looking at him from Tom's angelic face. _Voldemort's _eyes. But the next moment, the image of Tom's eyes as he had seen them a few hours ago, the color of molten silver, crept unbidden into Harry's mind. No, he did not look like Voldemort... Voldemort's lips had been so thin and bloodless, but Tom's mouth, rose-dark in the pale light, was full, with a delicately curved Cupid's bow... Tom's dark curls were all mussed with sleep now; his hair would probably be even messier than Harry's in the morning. Harry swallowed, hard.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember his mother's face, as he had seen it in pictures, and his father's... He tried to recall Cedric and the expression of frozen horror that had haunted his nightmares for the past year. _Voldemort. Voldemort will do all those things, but I can undo them at this moment in time. _

Slowly, Harry opened his eyes. He raised his wand and pointed it at the sleeping boy. "_Ava_... _Avada Kedavra!_" The whisper sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet room. But no green sparks flew from the wand that trembled in Harry's hand; the wand remained stubbornly lifeless. Harry stood for a moment, frozen. The wand slipped from his hand and fell to the marble floor with a dull thud.

Tom must have heard the wand falling, for he stirred a little under his satin sheets, and his lips parted. A slight whisper escaped him in his sleep: "_Harry..._"

Harry sank back on his own bed with a sigh and buried his head in his hands. Assassinating the Dark Lord was not going to be quite as simple as he had imagined.

...

"_Another _Black?" Horace Slughorn regarded Harry with an expression of absolute delight. "Now, which branch of the family do you come from, Harry?"

"One of the more obscure ones, sir," muttered Harry, studying his potions book.

Slughorn chuckled. "Really? Funny, that's exactly what Arcturus said... Do you two boys know each other, then?"

Harry glanced around the classroom, searching for the mysterious Arcturus. There! That must be him in the back corner, laughing with John Lupin and ignoring Slughorn completely. But... But wasn't that... _Sirius?_ Harry glanced curiously at the boy with the long dark curls and the grey eyes. His heart began to beat furiously. _Sirius? Could that be you, somehow, here in this time? Laughing in potions class with Remus' father?_ Arcturus Black turned, still grinning, to look at Harry. His eyes were grey and luminous, so very much like those of Sirius. But his face... Harry's heart dropped. No. He wasn't Sirius. Arcturus didn't have those sharp angles around the cheekbones, and his features were softer. Not Sirius. Just another Black.

Arcturus' potions book dropped to the floor with a thud. He stared at Harry, wide-eyed. A startled whisper escaped his lips. "But... But you are... No. No, you _can't _be..."

"Ah, so you two _do_ know each other?" Slughorn regarded them with a little smile.

"No, I don't think so." Arcturus' voice was hoarse. "He... He just reminded me of someone, that's all. A curious coincidence, nothing more. What... What was his name, did you say?"

Slughorn sighed. "You weren't listening at all when I introduced him, were you, Arcturus? You really need to pay more attention. This is Harry Black, a new Slytherin student."

"Oh." If the name "Harry" was familiar to Arcturus, he certainly wasn't showing it. He merely looked curiously at Harry, then shook his head slowly.

"Harry's the new Slytherin seeker." Alphard beamed.

"_You_ play Quidditch, too?" Arcturus' eyes narrowed as he studied Harry carefully.

"Indeed he does," said Tom Riddle softly. "I saw him play last night. In fact, I think he's the best Quidditch player I've ever seen."

"Better than _Arcturus?_" A stocky boy with a mop of wild yellow hair glanced up. "Not bloody likely!" _Mad-Eye Moody? _

Tom glanced coldly at him. "Arcturus may be good, Moody, but our new Seeker is considerably faster. You'll see."

"Oho! Well, this should prove to be an interesting end to the Quidditch season, then!" Slughorn rubbed his hands. "Why, we may have two future Quidditch stars among us!"

_Future? _Well, Slughorn got that part right, at least. Harry couldn't help smiling to himself at the irony. For some reason, Arcturus suddenly grinned into his potions book as well.

"Now, let's see if we have any talented potions makers among us, shall we?"

Harry groaned as he read the complex instructions on the board. A hand tugged shyly at his sleeve. Harry looked up and met the dark eyes of Eileen Prince. "Don't worry, Harry," she whispered. "I'm quite good at potions - I'll help you out." Her black eyes glittered. "In fact, I've experimented with some improvements to some of the instructions. Here, let me show you..."

...

"Arcturus!" Harry caught up with the Gryffindor boy in the hallway. Arcturus, who had been deep in conversation with Lupin, turned around.

"Hello, Harry Black." Arcturus' voice was not terribly friendly. Perhaps he didn't care for Slytherins. "Quite a talented potions maker, aren't you? Old Slughorn will want to make you part of his permanent collection after today's class, I'm sure."

Harry made a face. "Oh, God, I hope not."

Lupin grinned. "See? I told you he was all right, Arcturus, even if he's in Slytherin. Alphard said he's different from the others."

"You are a friend of Alphard's, then?" Arcturus studied Harry carefully.

Harry nodded. Why was Arcturus giving him that strange look?

"I wish I was good at potions," muttered Arcturus. "But I just can't stand them. Weird ingredients and horrible smells..." He wrinkled his nose.

"Oh, I'm not good at them either," said Harry hastily. "Slughorn just thought I was because Eileen Prince helped me."

"Eileen Prince _helped_ you?" Lupin stared at him. "My, my, you must have a way with the ladies, Harry! Eileen doesn't usually even talk to anyone; she just sits and broods by herself in a corner."

"Must run in the family," muttered Arcturus under his breath.

"_What_?" Harry stared at him.

"Nothing." Arcturus flushed. "Come on, we are late for divination!" He hurried along the hallway, his dark curls dancing around his shoulders.

...

"Foretelling the future," said Professor Inigo Imago softly, "is the most difficult of the magical arts. For whereas we may catch glimpses of what is to come, the future is ever shrouded in mystery and uncertainty. For the human heart is full of strange whimsies, and the future that is meant to be can fall victim to our rash and impulsive actions. A man may walk down the street, destined to set eyes on his soulmate for the first time as he rounds the corner - and he will decide, for no particular reason, to stop and buy a newspaper instead. Engrossed in some unimportant news story, he will then walk right by the lady Fate has destined for him, without casting her a second glance."

Tom glanced up. "But wouldn't this man still know that there was something missing, Professor? Wouldn't he have strange dreams of someone he has never seen?" He flushed slightly.

"Perhaps he would, yes." The white-haired professor smiled. "And that is why we need to learn how to interpret our nightly dreams. They may be harbingers of a future that is only visible to us in small glimpses... Now, please turn to page 42, where you will find a list of commonly recurring dream symbols. Working together in pairs, begin to record your most recent dreams, paying particular attention to any unusual or startling imagery."

"Over here, Harry! Quick! " Alphard waved him over, frantically. "Trying to avoid Sybill," he added in a whisper as Harry slid into the seat next to his own. "The strange girl with the glasses. She's always predicting my death; it's so terribly depressing. Oh, look, poor Tom got her as a partner; he'll get to hear all about his unfortunate demise today. Well, rather him than me."

Harry turned and looked at Sybill Trelawney, who was gazing at Tom with great sympathy. "Oh, you poor, poor boy!" she whispered. "I see a shadowy figure approaching you as you lie sleeping, wand raised. He utters the killing curse-"

"Are you all right, Arcturus?" Harry could hear John Lupin's voice nearby. "You are shivering."

"I'm... I'm all right," whispered Arcturus. "Just Sybill giving me the creeps again. Now, where were we? You were dreaming about a baby with turquoise hair? I'm sure that's a symbol... It probably means... I think it means that you have to be careful, _really _careful, never to insult a werewolf, or the wolf will take revenge on your firstborn child... Just remember that, John."

John Lupin leafed frantically through his divination book. "Where the hell did you find _that_? I don't see anything about that in here..."

Harry looked thoughtfully at Arcturus Black. _You_ _know Remus, then? And Snape? Who in Merlin's name _are_ you, Arcturus Black? Are you Sirius, after all?_

_..._

"So, I'm about to die any time, I hear," Tom Riddle sank down next to Harry in the grass by the lake.

Harry took a few deep breaths before he dared to look up. "Rather unnerving, having Sybill as a partner in divination, isn't it?"

"A little, yes." Tom smiled and stretched out in the grass. "Next time, I want _you_ to predict my future instead." He closed his eyes and yawned.

"What would you like your future to be like, then, Tom?" Harry tried to keep his voice steady.

Tom laughed softly. "Oh, I'd like to be frightfully rich, of course, and immensely powerful."

"Immensely powerful?" Harry glanced down at Tom. "Yes, I imagine that you will be, Tom..."

"You think so?" Tom opened his eyes. "Good. I like your predictions much better than Sybill's." His silver-grey eyes glittered. "Tell me what else you see in my future then, Harry."

Harry swallowed. "I.."

"Oh, don't look at me that way, Harry! You are worse than Sybill. I want you to predict a magnificent future for me."

Harry tried to smile. "What else do you want to happen in your future, then, Tom? Imagine that you are already rich and powerful - what else do you want?"

Tom pondered for a moment. Then he whispered. "I want to walk down the street and round the corner at precisely the right moment and see the one I'm supposed to see. Do you think that will happen to me, Harry?"

Harry looked down. "I don't know. Perhaps it will, Tom. I don't know..."

"Well, you are encouraging!" Tom sat up in the grass. "Enough of prophecies, Harry. Let's find something better to do."

"Like what?"

Tom pulled out a small tattered book from the pocket of his robes. "I found this in the library the other day, in the restricted section. You can go there any time you want; Slughorn will always write you a permission note if you say it's for an extra credit assignment. Look, this one's called _The Secret History of Hogwarts, _and it's got all sorts of interesting information in it."

"Information about what?"

Tom smiled. "About all the things the teachers don't want us to know about. Like the Chamber of Secrets, for example. It was built by Salazar Slytherin himself, and no one has been able to find it since. But there are some intriguing clues in this book. Let's go and see if we can find it, Harry, just the two of us!"

"No!" Harry stared at Tom in horror. "The monster... You can't..."

"Oh, you know about the monster? I just came across references to that legend recently. Where did _you_ hear about Salazar's monster?"

"Family... library..." Harry's voice faltered.

"Really?" Tom lifted an eyebrow. "I'd like to see you family's library some time, then, Harry! Oh, you don't need to worry about the legendary monster; even if still exists, I believe I can control it. Look at this." He pulled his yew wand out of his robes. "_Serpensortia!_"

A small grey snake with black diamond markings appeared in the grass.

Tom regarded the slithering serpent with a slight smile. "I have a skill that very few wizards have, Harry. _*Dance for me, serpent!*_"

The snake began to move in odd mesmerizing spirals as soon as it heard the Parseltongue command.

"It obeys me," whispered Tom. "And I have reasons to believe that Slytherin's monster was a serpent of sorts as well. Did you know that Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth, just like me? Let's go and find the chamber, shall we?"

*_Stop dancing!* _hissed Harry furiously at the snake. It stopped abruptly, mid-coil, and remained motionless in the grass. *_No, Tom! Don't go looking for the chamber. I won't let you!*_ He flung his arms around Tom and pushed him down to the ground, hard. They both tumbled over, landing in a tangled heap in the soft grass, Harry on top. He looked into the startled eyes of the future Dark Lord. Tom's face was so close to his own that Harry could feel his warm breath whispering against his own face. An odd expression passed over Tom's face. *_You are a Parselmouth, too, Harry? Just like me?*_

*_You bet I am, Riddle*_," hissed Harry, _*and I will command the basilisk in the chamber to impale itself on a sword before I let you set it loose on this school.*_

"Well, well, well!" Arcturus Black's cold voice rang out behind them. "Two Slytherin Parselmouths! Practicing the Dark Arts, are we? And they are about to _kiss_ each other, too, by the looks of things. I _told _you, didn't I, John, that you can't trust a Slytherin. It turns out I was right about Harry after all."


	3. Chapter 3

**~The Time of Roses~**

**...**

**Summary: **Harry travels back to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR.

**Warning: **Rated M for slash (homoerotic romance) between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, with a little interference from Arcturus Black. Whoever _he_ is...

...

**~Chapter 3~**

**...**

Harry couldn't sleep. Too many strange thoughts were swirling around in his head: Arcturus Black, who _almost_ looked like Sirius. Arcturus Black, who was sorted into Gryffindor. Arcturus Black, who appeared to be a time traveler, just like Harry. Who _was_ he, and what was he doing here? Had _he_ come to kill Tom Riddle as well?

Harry sighed and buried his head in the cool, smooth satin of his pillow. It didn't help. The thoughts kept churning in his mind. Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle, who had dreamed of a boy with a scar. Tom Riddle, who was still searching for the Chamber of Secrets. Tom Riddle who was going to become Voldemort. Except that he wasn't Voldemort. Not yet. Tom Riddle, whose breath had felt so warm against Harry's face...

_What was that noise?_ That slight rustling sound by the door? Was someone creeping out of the dormitory at night? Harry lay still, listening. Soft footsteps against the marble floors, coming closer... No, no one was sneaking out of the dormitory. Someone was sneaking _in! _How very strange...

Harry lay motionless, feigning sleep. His perpetually messy hair had fallen halfway over his eyes; he didn't think anyone would be able to tell in this soft light that he was not sleeping unless they looked _very_ closely. A shadowy figure was weaving its way through the room now, bending over the sleeping boys and scrutinizing each face in turn.

The figure stopped at Riddle's bed. "_There _he is," whispered a voice softly. Harry peered at the intruder through the strands of his dark hair. Gryffindor robes? How had a _Gryffindor _student been able to enter the Slytherin dormitory at night? Long, black curls gleamed in the candlelight. _Arcturus Black? __What is he doing here in the middle of the night? _

The next moment, Harry realized precisely what Arcturus was doing, for the Gryffindor boy pulled a wand out of his robes and pointed it at Riddle. "Apparently, Sybill predicted the future correctly for once, Tom," he breathed. "You are about to die, _Lord Voldemort. _Before you can hurt any more people."

Harry waited, breathlessly, for the deadly curse, but Arcturus seemed to hesitate. He ran his fingers through his black curls and looked uncertainly at the sleeping boy in front of him. "Damn. This would be easier if he looked more like himself..." muttered the young assassin. "Why does he have to look like a bloody _angel_?"

_I know all too well how you feel, Arcturus! _Harry felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. He felt a strange urge to leap out of bed and knock the wand out of Arcturus' unsteady hand, and he groaned inwardly. _Merlin! Hermione was right. I really do have a "saving people thing", don't I? I don't even want to see Tom Riddle dead. Well, if I really want lives to be saved, __I need to let Arcturus do this. I need to let him kill Voldemort. I failed miserably at my task already. Now all I need to do is stay quiet and let the mysterious Arcturus save the lives of all of Voldemort's future victims with one swift, deadly curse. _

What was taking him so long? Arcturus seemed distracted by something. "Damn. He's... _beautiful. _Why does he have to be so beautiful?" Arcturus' wand was shaking in his hand now. He stood there for a few moments, in apparent irresolution, staring at Tom. "And I'm _not_ gay, no matter what my idiot friends think," he whispered to himself. "They don't know anything about me. I'm attracted to _girls_, damn it! I'm not attracted to boys. And especially not to _him_..." A slight sigh escaped him. The next moment, he bent over the bed and touched his lips lightly to Tom's pale forehead, and then his mouth.

Tom moaned softly in his sleep, and Arcturus leaped back, startled. "Oh, Merlin!" He looked at Tom, his grey eyes wide in the dim light. "What the hell did I just _do_? I'm supposed to _kill _him, for Merlin's sake! Oh, I'm pathetic! This is going to be harder than I thought..." He shook his head slowly.

Harry closed his eyes. He could hear Arcturus' footsteps, retreating towards the door, then the slight creak of the heavy oak door as it open and closed.

_Arcturus Black couldn't kill Tom Riddle either. _Harry felt strangely relieved at the thought.

Tom stirred in his sleep again. _*Come back...* _As he whispered the phrase in Parseltongue, his lips curled in a slight smile. The dark, full lips that Arcturus had kissed a few moments before...

Suddenly, Harry felt quite certain that he _could _pull off the killing curse, after all. He knew that if he uttered the _Avada Kedavra _curse at that moment, deadly green sparks would fly from his wand and strike his victim dead.

The only problem was that it wasn't _Tom_ that he wanted to kill right now, but bloody _Arcturus, _who went around kissing people in the night.

Harry buried his head in his pillow and groaned.

...

"What in Merlin's name has come over Arcturus?" John Lupin sounded distinctly annoyed. "The match is about to start any minute, and he's _still_ over in the stands, smiling at those Ravenclaw girls. GET OVER HERE, ARCTURUS!"

"He's been cursed. I'm sure of it." Alastor Moody looked grim. "He's been acting strange all day, flirting with every girl in sight."

"He has, hasn't he?" The round-faced Algie Longbottom frowned. "My girlfriend, Enid, said that Arcturus blew her a kiss in the hallway and complimented her on her... er... bosom. She was _very_ annoyed. Hexed him within an inch of his life, of course."

"Perhaps Arcturus is trying to prove something." The voice of the Gryffindor keeper, Minerva McGonagall, was distinctly chilly.

Moody shook his head stubbornly. "Cursed," he said darkly. "It's the only explanation. Hitting on Enid is one thing - she _is _a fine-looking lass, begging your pardon, Longbottom - but I saw Arcturus flirting with Jane Selwyn in arithmancy class, and there can be _no_ natural explanation for that. That girl looks like a toad."

"She does _not_!" Algie Longbottom sounded indignant. "She's perfectly horrid."

Moody frowned slightly. "Yes, that's what I meant, Longbottom."

John Lupin looked worried. "Perhaps Arcturus has drunk some sort of love potion? No, that can't be it, either - _amortentia _would make him fall in love with _one _girl, not _all _of them."

"A potion?" Moody nodded slowly. "You may be on to something there, Lupin. I've noticed Arcturus taking little sips from a bottle he keeps in his pocket when he thinks no one is noticing. Probably something _far_ more sinister than a love potion, if you ask me."

"Having problems with your seeker, Lupin?" Tom shot the Gryffindor captain a look of false sympathy. "We don't _have _to play if you'd like to concede the match to us instead."

"Our seeker will be here in thirty seconds, Riddle," snapped Minerva McGonagall and stomped off to retrieve Arcturus from the stands, her long braids flying behind her. Harry couldn't hear what she said to him, but Arcturus looked rather sheepish as he followed her onto the field a few moments after.

"About time, Mr. Black." The flying teacher, a small wiry foreign wizard whose name Harry didn't catch, looked sternly at Arcturus. "Teams, assume your positions, please."

The two teams lined up. Arcturus Black, John Lupin, Algie Longbottom, Alastor Moody, Minerva McGonagall and two boys named Frobisher and Sloper made up the Gryffindor team, while Harry, Tom, Abraxas Malfoy, Cepheus Lestrange, Alphard Black, a third year student named Orion Black, who looked like cheerful miniature Sirius, and a boy named Crockett played for Slytherin. It felt a little strange to be playing Quidditch wearing the silver and green Slytherin uniform, and Harry's glance flickered enviously over to Arcturus, who was looking very handsome in the red and gold robes of Gryffindor House.

Harry felt Tom's hand on his shoulder. "Good luck, Harry. Show them what you can do."

"Oh, I'll show them all right." Harry's gaze was fixed on Arcturus.

Tom laughed. "That's the spirit!" He ruffled Harry's hair gently, and Harry saw a look of deep annoyance run over Arcturus' face.

The golden snitch was released into the bright spring air, disappearing in a flurry of light and motion, and the other balls followed. Harry leaned forward on his broomstick, scanning the air for any sign of the snitch. _There! _A slight movement at the very edge of his vision... Harry shot off through the air, and he heard a slight murmur from the crowd below. The Silver Arrow Dumbledore had so kindly provided for him was somewhat slower than the broomsticks Harry was used to from the future, but it was rather responsive, and if you angled it just _so, _it was perfectly possible to get some decent speed out of it.

Unfortunately, Arcturus Black seemed to be every bit as fast on _his_ Silver Arrow as Harry was on his. The red-robed Gryffindor boy raced after Harry through the fragrant spring air. A dangerous glint in his grey eyes suggested that he wasn't going to let Harry get his hands on the snitch in this lifetime if _he _could help it.

Harry changed directions, and so did Arcturus. Harry groaned. Why did Arcturus follow him around like that? _Fly off and search for the bloody snitch yourself, Arcturus, and stop following me wherever I go! Merlin, he's annoying! Stop following me, or I'll show you some moves from _my_ future you won't appreciate!_

_Wait a minute... _Harry grinned suddenly. _No, that's all right, Arcturus. You just go ahead and follow me. _He veered his broom suddenly to the left, and sure enough, Arcturus followed.

Far below, he could hear the flying teacher's excited stream of commentary. "And Orion Black approaches the goal, yet again! Ah, good shot! But the Gryffindor keeper, McGonagall, makes another spectacular save... And where is the snitch? The two seekers seem to be heading in the same direction. Something appears to be happening up there. I think the Slytherin seeker has spotted the snitch! He's going for... _Merlin's beard_!"

Harry could hear the murmur of noises from the crowd as he dove suddenly towards the ground far below, hand outstretched, as if to catch the snitch. He looked quickly over his shoulder. Yes, Arcturus was still in hot pursuit. Harry smiled to himself and headed straight for the ground in a blur of speed. He could feel the rush of wind from Arcturus' broom right behind him, sensed that he was drawing closer...

At the last possibly instant, Harry straightened his broom, mere inches from the ground, and swooped back up in the air.

"Oof!" Arcturus hit the ground with a thud. Harry gave him a brief glance, then soared up and grabbed the golden snitch, which was hovering quietly over by the Gryffindor goalposts. The crowd sat in stunned silence for a few moments before frantic applause and cheers broke out.

John Lupin stared wide-eyed at Harry. "Wait, what just _happened? _Did you just _pretend _to see the snitch down there, so Arcturus would follow you?"

"That was bloody brilliant!" Abraxas' Malfoy's eyes were shining.

"Fantastic, Harry!" Tom Riddle was laughing. "How did you think of _that_? I've never seen anything like it!"

"Neither have I." There was an expression of rapture on the flying teacher's face as he gazed at Harry. "What a brilliant tactical move! I _have _to try that myself when I go back to Poland this summer and play for the Grodzisk Goblins!" He chuckled. "They won't know what hit them!"

Harry stared at him. "You play for the Grodzisk Goblins, sir?"

The little wizard grinned. "Indeed I do, Mr. Black. I'm their seeker."

"But then... then you must be... _Jozef Wronski?_" Harry blinked in confusion. _Did I just teach Wronski the Wronski feint? Oh, no, I can feel a headache coming on, just thinking about it... _

Arcturus had scrambled to his feet by now, and he was approaching Harry with a rather strange expression on his face.

"Did you... did you get hurt?" Harry couldn't help feeling a little bad about Arcturus' fall.

Arcturus shook his head ruefully. "Just my pride. No sweat. But what _I _would like to know is where you learned that particular move. It is a rather unusual one." He fixed Harry with his bright, grey gaze. "I don't think I've seen that feint _before._"

Something in his tone seemed to suggest that he had, perhaps, seen it _after, _at some time in the future.

"I... It just struck me as a good idea..." Harry faltered. To his immense surprise, a slow grin spread over Arcturus' face. He looked around rapidly to make sure that no one else was listening. Then he bent closer to Harry and whispered: "You'd better not be who I think you are, Black. Did you follow me here? I told you I was doing this _alone_, you moron. This is _my_ mission."

"What?" Harry stared at Arcturus in complete incomprehension.

Arcturus flushed. "Oh, I guess you are _not. _My bad. You just reminded me of... of a friend of mine for a moment. No, of course you can't be. You were speaking Parseltongue before, weren't you?"

"That was the best Quidditch match I've ever seen!" A large boy with a mop of wild, black hair came up to them and began shaking Harry's hand violently up and down. "I heard yeh were good at Quidditch, Black, but that was _incredible, _that was!"

_Hagrid? _Harry smiled up at the familiar face. "Thank you, er... Rubeus, was it?" Hagrid looked almost the same, even without his exuberant beard.

"That's right!" Hagrid beamed at him. "Not much of a Quidditch player meself - a little too heavy for a regulation broomstick, yeh know - but it's great fun to watch." His black eyes twinkled. "Funny, isn't it, how the pair of yeh jus' showed up here a few weeks apart and made the matches more interesting!" He looked thoughtfully at Harry and Arcturus. "Now, there's something about the two of yeh that's been puzzling me - I can't put me finger on it, exactly, but... Are yeh two brothers?"

"_Brothers_?" Harry smiled at his friend from the future. "No, of course not. We don't even know each other from before. But we do have the same last name, so I assume we are distant relatives."

"Oh, I wasn't talking about the _name._" Hagrid put his large head to one side and looked at the two boys. "No, there's something else abou' the pair of yeh that's... that's..."

"That's what, Hagrid?" Arcturus looked at him with interest now.

Hagrid shrugged. "I don't rightly know how to say it, Black. Yeh two don' look the same, but yeh _feel_ the same. Like one of those flobberworms that splits itself in two and becomes _two _flobberworms. Like... like yeh are almos' the same person, if yeh know what I mean..."

Harry and Arcturus looked at each other for a moment in stunned silence. Then Arcturus whispered: "But that's... that's complete nonsense, Hagrid..."

Hagrid rubbed his nose thoughtfully. "Yes. Yes, I suppose it is, Black." He lit up in a sudden, wide smile. "I'm wondering if either one of yeh is interested in rare creatures? Yeh both seem like the sort of people who are fond of animals. I've got a few interesting ones if ye'd like to take a look some time."

Harry and Arcturus' eyes met.

"What sort of creatures, Hagrid?" asked Arcturus in a resigned sort of voice.

"Oh, I can't tell yeh beforehand, Black." Hagrid smiled happily to himself. "Tha' would ruin the surprise, now, wouldn't it?"


	4. Chapter 4

**~The Time of Roses~**

**...**

**Summary: **Harry travels back to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR.

**Warning: **Rated M for slash (homoerotic romance) between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, with a little interference from Arcturus Black. Whoever _he_ is...

...

**~Chapter 4~**

**...**

"Isn't he _beautiful_?" Hagrid gazed, enraptured, down at the night-black monster in his arms. The infant acromantula, which was about the size of a first-year student, rubbed one of its furry legs pensively against Hagrid's cheek. Hagrid chuckled. "Oh, look, he knows his mummy, don't he?" He beamed at Harry and Arcturus. "Isn't he the loveliest creature yeh ever saw?"

Arcturus ran his fingers through his hair. "Erm. Yes, lovely... But Hagrid, I don't think you should keep him here at school."

"Arcturus is right, Hagrid," said Harry quickly. "Surely, he... he can't be happy, cooped up in a little cupboard in the dungeons like that. He needs to be out in the forest, where he can run free, enjoy the breeze-"

"That's right," put in Arcturus eagerly. "The Forbidden Forest would be a great place for him, Hagrid. He's _much_ too dangerous to keep at school."

"_Dangerous_?" Hagrid was indignant. "What do yeh mean? My little Aragog wouldn't harm a billywig, he wouldn't."

"Not on purpose, of course." Arcturus eyed the acromantula warily. "But what if... what if someone scares him, and he attacks in... er, self-defense? Then _you_ would be blamed. You could even be expelled from Hogwarts. We don't want that to happen, do we, Hagrid?"

"Expelled?" Hagrid burst out laughing. "For keepin' a pet? That's jus' silly. Yeh can't be serious, Black!"

"I can't be Siri- _what?" _Arcturus seemed terribly flustered all of a sudden.

"I don't think that is silly at all," said Harry softly. "It _is _illegal to raise acromantulas, isn't it? And if there were some sort of incident at school, _you _may only be expelled, Hagrid, but imagine what they might do to Aragog."

"To Aragog?" whispered Hagrid. His arms tightened protectively around the hairy monster.

"That's right!" said Arcturus eagerly. "Harry's got an excellent point, Hagrid. They might even..." He lowered his voice to a whisper: "...put him _down._ We wouldn't want that to happen, do we?"

Hagrid grew pale. "Put him down? Little Aragog? Yeh... yeh really reckon he would be safer in the forest, then?"

"Absolutely." Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Best place for him. All that fresh air... And you can always visit him there, Hagrid. As often as you like."

Hagrid sighed deeply. "Yes. Yes, I suppose yeh are right. Come on, then, little fella. Come with mummy. We're goin' to find yeh a nice new nest." He strolled off down the torchlit hallway with his precious burden, a black pincer clicking menacingly at the two boys over his shoulder.

"Well, that's _one_ problem solved," muttered Arcturus. He glanced thoughtfully at Harry. "Thanks for your help. Maybe you are not a bad sort, after all. For a Slytherin."

"Thanks," muttered Harry, uncertain whether he should take Arcturus' statement as a compliment or not.

Something pearly-white and insubstantial fluttered by. "Good evening, boys... Wait, _what_?" The translucent form of Nearly Headless Nick wheeled around and came to a halt in the air near Harry and Arcturus. An expression of astonishment passed over his spectral features. "But... but this is _impossible!_"

"Hello, Sir Nicholas." Arcturus grinned at the Gryffindor house ghost. "Er.. _What's _impossible?"

Nearly Headless Nick looked from Arcturus to Harry, and then back to Arcturus. "_This,_" he whispered. "The two of you, here at Hogwarts at the same time. That _can't _be."

"Really?" Arcturus looked curiously at the ghostly nobleman. "Why can't it, Sir Nicholas?"

But Nearly Headless Nick merely shook his head. "Can't tell you, I'm afraid. It's the Ghost Code, you see."

"The _Ghost Code_? Ghosts have a code?"

The ghost looked sternly at Arcturus. "Of course we do. Did you imagine our condition to be a state of absolute lawlessness? There is a rather strict code of conduct for the deceased, especially regarding conveying any information about the future to the living. When one is...ah... _released _from the constraints of time, one gains certain new perspectives. In other words, a person who passes on from the land of the living and becomes a ghost can see the past and the future as clearly as the present."

"You can see the future?" Harry stared at him.

Nearly Headless Nick inclined his head gravely. "Yes, of course. All ghosts can. But we cannot _speak_ of it to mere living mortals, of course. That would be against the ancient code that governs our very existence. One gets used to knowing the future after a while, and one learns not to think about it too much. But when certain paradoxes arise-" He looked doubtfully at the two boys for a moment, then shook his wobbly head slowly. "Oh, dear - I haven't had a headache in almost five hundred years, but I can _definitely_ feel one coming on now." He sighed and vanished down the corridor.

Harry and Arcturus stared after him. "What... what do you think that was all about?" whispered Arcturus.

Harry shrugged. "No idea." He eyed a group of small girls skipping by in the hallway. "Oh, did you happen to see a little girl with glasses around, by any chance? I'm not sure which year she's in. Her name is Myrtle. I have a... a small matter to discuss with her, but I don't know where to find her."

"Myrtle?" Arcturus gave him a distinctly odd look. "Well, that's funny, Harry. As it happens, I just talked to a girl named Myrtle this morning."

"_You_ did? But... " Harry rubbed his forehead. He was beginning to feel a headache coming on as well. "What did _you_ talk to her about, then?"

Arcturus' luminous grey eyes studied Harry's face closely. "I complimented her on her glasses, actually. I told her that they made her look very pretty. And I said that if anyone gave her a hard time at all, she should come straight to me about it instead of going off on her own to cry."

"You did?" Harry couldn't help smiling. "I... I was actually thinking of saying something fairly similar."

They two boys stared at each other for a moment in silence. Then Arcturus whispered. "This is just _too_ strange, Black. Listen, I know this is impossible, but I have to ask anyway. _Are _you-"

"Arcturus! _There _you are!" They both turned around at the sound of Jane Selwyn's unnaturally sweet and cheerful voice. Arcturus groaned.

"I promised to help you with your arithmancy homework, don't you remember?" Jane flashed Arcturus a bright smile and adjusted her little pink hair bow.

Arcturus looked pale. "Oh. That's right, I forgot... Listen, Jane, I really appreciate it, but it's not necessary. I already finished all the problems."

"_You_ did? On your own? Including the one where you had to use the _Mispar Godol _tables_?_" Jane eyed him doubtfully. "Somehow, I don't think so, Arcturus Black. Come along now, dear."

"It's all right," said Harry quickly. "I... I helped him with his homework, Jane. He's all set."

Arcturus shot Harry a look of profound gratitude, but Jane merely giggled.

"Oh, don't be silly, Harry. You don't even _take_ arithmancy. Do you even know what the _Mispar Godol _is?"

"Yes, of course. It's... It's..."

"I thought so." Jane gave Harry a sweet smile that chilled him to the bone. "Come, come, boys, you mustn't tell _lies_. Come along, now, Arcturus. You _know_ we had agreed to do this."

Arcturus sighed deeply and trailed helplessly after Jane.

"Just... just make sure you use your own pen, all right, Arcturus?" called Harry after him. "Don't borrow any of hers."

...

"Harry? Where are _you_ going?" Tom Riddle opened his eyes sleepily.

Harry flushed and cursed himself for not being more quiet. He had been so sure that everyone was sleeping. "Just taking a stroll. I'll be back in a little while. Go back to sleep, Tom."

"A stroll? In the middle of the night?" Tom sat up in bed, his silver-grey eyes glittering now. "Wait up - I'll come with you. Where are you going, anyway?"

Harry tried to keep his voice steady. "To the Chamber of Secrets, actually. And yes, I suppose you can come with me, Tom. I was going to do this alone, but perhaps it makes sense for you to be there."

"The Chamber of Secrets?" Tom's quicksilver eyes widened. "Do you know where it is, then?"

Harry nodded silently.

"Where? I have narrowed it down to the first or second floor, but I'm still not entirely certain..."

"You will see, Tom."

Tom nodded and slid quietly out of bed. "All right. But the other day, when you spoke Parseltongue, you said that you _didn't _want me to find it."

Harry swallowed. "I know. I... I think I have changed my mind about that, Tom. Perhaps it _is_ better if you come along after all_." It is the place where you and I first met, Tom, the first time I saw your face. Yours, not Voldemort's. But this time, I'm prepared for what's coming and you are not. This time, _I'm_ the one in charge._

They slipped silently out of the dormitory. Harry pulled his invisibility cloak from his pocket and unfurled it over both of them.

"An invisibility cloak?" Tom whispered. "Where did you get one _of those_?"

"Family heirloom," said Harry shortly. "Just in case we meet anyone." For a brief, absurd moment, he wondered if _Arcturus_ had been wearing a cloak, too, when _he_ was sneaking around the corridors of the school at night. No, that would be terribly unlikely. Invisibility cloaks were very rare, weren't they?

"Where are we going?" whispered Tom a little later as they climbed yet another flight of stairs. "The entrance to the Chamber can't be _this_ high up."

"We need to go somewhere else first," breathed Harry in Tom's ear. He could feel the warmth from Tom's limbs as they climbed the stairs together under the cloak. He had walked under the cloak with Ron and Hermione often enough, but he was used to _them. _Tom's presence under the cloak felt much more distracting. _The Boy Who Lived and The Dark Lord, _he mused to himself, glancing furtively at Tom's angelic face under the cloak, _walking invisibly through Hogwarts together... This is completely absurd. I wonder why it feels so right?_

They paused outside a heavy oak door. "The headmaster's office?" Tom sounded puzzled.

"I just need to get something in here first, Tom." Harry glanced at the hideous gargoyle that guarded the entrance. It stared stonily back. Apparently, the cloak didn't fool it for an instant. "Do you... er... happen to know if Professor Dippet likes sweets?"

"Sweets? I have no idea." Tom grinned. "But if it's the password to his office you need, it's "Fifi LaFolle". Wronski let it slip once; he thought it was terribly funny_._"

"Fifi LaFolle?" Harry repeated, and the gargoyle swung aside with a deep sigh that seemed to indicate that it didn't care much for the password either. "Isn't that an author of some sort? I think I've seen her books at Mrs. Fi-... at a friend's house."

"I suppose one might call her an author." Tom pushed the door open. "She writes wizarding romances. All sorts of romantic nonsense about soul mates, true love, magic and time travel. Old Dippet adores her books, apparently. So, what are we doing in here, Harry?_"_

"Finding the Sorting Hat. _Lumos._" Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off and scanned the shelves in the light from his wand. "There it is!" He pulled the old hat down from a shelf and sneezed as a cloud of dust billowed from the tattered fabric.

"Well, well, _well!_" The Sorting Hat sounded amused. "I knew you would be back! Getting sick of Slytherin House already, boy? Ready to be re-sorted?"

"Re-sorted?" Tom stared at the hat. The hat stiffened at the sound of his voice.

"_Him_?" The hat sounded startled now. "Why in Merlin's name did you bring _him_ along? _You_ I'll sort again if you wish, my little Gryffindor rebel, but I'm _not_ re-sorting that other one. He's a Slytherin, if I ever saw one."

Harry sighed. "I did not come here to ask you to sort me again. I have a different favor to ask you this time."

"Wait, I don't understand, Harry. Why does the hat think you are a Gryffindor?" Tom gave Harry a puzzled look. "You are a Slytherin like me, aren't you? Why, you even speak Parseltongue, for Merlin's sake!"

Harry ignored him and turned to the hat. "I'm going into the Chamber of Secrets, and I need a weapon."

"A weapon-?" The hat remained motionless for a minute. Then it breathed softly. "Ah... You _are _a true Gryffindor, aren't you?"

Something gleamed silver, and Harry reached into the frayed fabric of the hat. His hand closed around hard, unyielding metal. With a grin, he pulled an ancient sword, set with glittering rubies at the hilt, out of the hat.

"What in Merlin's name is _that_?" breathed Tom.

The Sorting Hat gave a wheezy chuckle. "_That, _young Slytherin, is the Sword of Gryffindor. Didn't see that coming, did you?"

"It's... beautiful..." Tom whispered hoarsely, his silver eyes fixed on the sword.

"You like ancient magical artifacts, don't you?" There was a menacing note in the hat's whisper now. "I know about you, Tom Riddle. Well, _this_ one will never be yours. Only a true Gryffindor can touch this sword."

"A true Gryffindor-?" Tom stared at Harry. "But... But he's not..."

"Let's go, Tom." Harry took Tom's hand and pulled him out of the headmaster's office. "Here, let's put the cloak back on."

They walked in uneasy silence down the stairs. Harry could feel Tom's silver gaze lingering on him. Finally, Tom whispered: "Harry? Did you just hex the Sorting Hat? It was acting terribly strange. First it sorts you into Slytherin, and then it gives you Gryffindor's sword, even though you are no Gryffindor. You must have used some very powerful magic to confound it- "

"Long story, Tom." Harry paused and pushed a door open in front of them. "Come on, Tom. This is where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is."

"In the girls' _bathroom_?" Tom smiled at first, but then he drew his breath sharply. "_Of course! _Why didn't I think of that? Some of the clues in the ancient texts I found in the Restricted Section _did_ suggest a connection to water..."

Harry pulled the cloak off, and they both glanced around the shadowy bathroom. A shaft of silvery moonlight fell through the tall tapered windows and cast the room in a soft half-light. White marble sinks gleamed in the shadows, and the heavy old taps glittered silver in the light of the moon.

"Somewhere in here..." whispered Tom, running his hands over the white marble. "But where, Harry?"

Without answering, Harry turned to a silver tap shaped like an ornate serpent and whispered in Parseltongue: *_Open!_*

With a hollow groan, the heavy marble sink shifted to the side, and a gaping black hole opened in front of them.

"Merlin! What sort of wizard _are_ you, Harry?" There was something new in Tom's silver eyes now, something like... admiration? "How did you know what to do? You are no ordinary student, are you, Harry Black? All the rest of them are naive fools, playing at conjuring tricks, the students and the teachers alike. But you are different. You are a _true_ wizard, like Slytherin himself..." He added almost shyly: "I think you and I could become friends, Harry..."

Harry swallowed. He tucked his wand into the pocket of his robes and grasped the Sword of Gryffindor tightly in his right hand. "Friends? I don't know about that... Come with me, Tom. It's time to meet Slytherin's monster. _This_ time, you will see it face to face."

"_This _time? What are you talking about?" Tom clutched his wand tightly and followed Harry into the dark chamber.


	5. Chapter 5

**~The Time of Roses~**

**...**

**Summary: **Harry travels back to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR.

**Warning: **Rated M for slash (homoerotic romance) between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, with a little interference from Arcturus Black. Whoever _he_ is...

**Author's Note: **Thank you for all the reviews and comments. Some of you have come up with the most intriguing theories about the identity of Arcturus Black. I've created a little poll on my profile page if you'd like to cast your vote! Your vote will not influence the outcome of the story, however, since I have already written parts of the final chapter. But I love some of your ideas so much that they might very well turn into future stories!

...

**~Chapter 5~**

**...**

At first, there was nothing but blackness and a dead silence. Harry could sense Tom's presence next to him; he could feel the warmth from his limbs in the stale chill of the chamber and hear the quiet rhythm of his breath.

_Welcome to the Chamber of Secrets, Tom! This is where we first met each other, you and I. Perhaps you don't remember why we are supposed to meet here, but I do. You will watch me kill the basilisk, just like your shadowy memory watched me in the future. I wonder if you will write about it in your diary tonight, Tom Riddle! I will save a young girl's life tonight, just like I did in the future. But this time it will be Myrtle's life I save, rather than Ginny's... Or did Arcturus already save Myrtle, just by talking to her?_

"_Lumos!_" The light from Tom's outstretched wand flickered dimly in the dark chamber. Harry could make out the shapes of ancient stone walls now, crumbling with age and moisture. The air was heavy and still. Tom's face was pale in the dim light, but his eyes were shining.

"Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, at last!" he whispered. "Imagine, Harry - we are the first to set foot in this room since Salazar Slytherin himself. I can almost sense his presence in here. The beast he charged with guarding his secret chamber is still here, I can feel it in my bones. Can you sense it, too, Harry? I can hear something stirring. Something is still alive in this chamber!"

Harry nodded and clasped the silver sword in his hand more firmly. He could begin to make out a faint sound, a distant rush, like something immensely heavy moving slowly over the damp stone floor, coming closer...

Something stirred in the shadows now. A vast shape, even darker than the shadows that veiled it, was looming in front of them. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught a fleeting glimpse of something luminous and yellow. _The deadly eyes of the basilisk. _He averted his glance quickly.

"Look down, Tom!" Harry tried to keep his voice steady. "Do not meet its glance directly. Salazar's monster is a basilisk; its gaze will kill you if you look into its eyes."

"A basilisk?" Tom stood immovable for a moment. Then he whispered hoarsely in Parseltongue: _*Listen to me, you ancient protector of Salazar's secrets! I am the last descendant of Slytherin, Salazar's rightful heir, and I bid you obey me in all things.*_

The basilisk stirred, and an immense whisper echoed through the chamber: _*You are Salazar's heir? You claim to be my master?*_

Harry kept his eyes firmly on the ground as the monster slithered closer to the two of them. Water was covering the floor now, gathering in dark shallow pools at their feet. Harry could feel the terrible stench of stale water and death tearing at his nostrils, and he wanted to retch.

_*What is this?*_ The basilisk paused in front of Harry, so close that Harry could feel its foul breath ruffling his hair._ *You have brought me a sacrifice, descendant of Slytherin? You did well, Salazar's heir. I will only obey a master who is willing to sacrifice one of his own kind to me, as Salazar did.*_

_*Sacrifice-? No!*_ Tom cried out and yanked Harry away from the monster's gaping jaws. _*Not him. Never him. He is my friend, a Parselmouth like me. I'll... I'll bring you someone else...*_

"Bring it someone else? Like hell you will, Tom! _This_ time, there will be no sacrifices." Harry grasped the Sword of Gryffindor with both hands, breathed deeply, and thrust upwards with all his might. He could feel the sword grazing the monster's scaly skin, and something cold and sticky oozed down over his shoulder, but the basilisk reared its head and pulled away from him. A ferocious snarl resonated through the chamber.

"Harry! Get away from it! Now!" Tom raised his wand. _*Obey me, basilisk! You will not touch him! Follow me back through the passage, and I will find you another sacrifice...*_

The basilisk let out a terrifying hiss. _*Salazar's heir you may be, but you are not my master if you deny me the sacrifice I yearn for. I am famished after my long slumber. Step aside from my sacrifice, Salazar's heir, or I will consume you both!*_

_*No!*_ Tom stepped in front of Harry, pointing his wand at the basilisk with a trembling hand. "I will kill you rather than let you harm him. _Avada Kedavra!"_

The green sparks that flew from Tom's wand sputtered feebly against the dark, glistening scales of the basilisk. _*You seek to slay me with a human killing curse, you fool?* _The basilisk lunged for Tom, and Harry pulled him out of the way at the last moment. The sword fell out of Harry's hand and fell to the floor with a clang.

"The killing curse won't work on the basilisk, Tom. I need to kill it with the sword of Gryffindor; it's the only way! Watch out!"

The basilisk struck out with its mighty head. Harry managed to leap aside, but to his horror he saw the beast lurching over Tom. The sword! The sword was pinned under the basilisk's heavy body now, out of Harry's reach. The ferocious jaws opened, and Harry glanced at the pale, terrified face of the boy who was not yet the Dark Lord... _Tom!_ _Oh, Merlin! It's going to kill Tom!_

_*Hey! Over here! I'm the sacrifice you want, not him!*_ hissed Harry in Parseltongue. The words came out of his mouth before he could stop and think. The basilisk paused, as if perplexed, and turned its head slowly towards him. Harry closed his eyes and cursed himself inwardly._ The basilisk was about to kill Voldemort for me, and I just couldn't let it, could I? Just because the Dark Lord looks like an innocent schoolboy at the moment, and because his curls fall softly down over his mesmerizing quicksilver eyes like that... Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, is about to die, sacrificing his own life to save bloody _Voldemort, _his parents' murderer.__ Stupid, stupid, stupid "saving people thing"..._

Harry tumbled backwards, but the monster's ferocious jaws snapped closer, closer... Harry's back was to the wall now, and the sword was completely hidden under the vast scaly body of the basilisk. _I am going to die. Just because I've got a stupid savior complex, and because Tom's eyes are that curious shade of silvery grey, and because I can't bear the thought of anything happening to him... I'm going to die._

_"No! _Close your eyes, Harry!" Tom pointed his wand at the dark pool of water at Harry's feet and uttered a spell in a strange language Harry did not recognize: "_Melna clth thii!_" As he spoke, the dark water began to gleam with a strange lustrous sheen. The surface of the water became light, became silver...

"A mirror..." breathed Harry. "Tom, what did you-?"

The basilisk, dazzled by the sudden brilliance that surrounded it, lowered its enormous head and gazed curiously down into the silvery surface of the pool with its huge eyes. Its glance fell on its own brilliant reflection in the water, and the monster froze as it met its own deadly yellow gaze.

The next instant, a shrill keening cry echoed through the chamber, and the basilisk sank to the floor, its eyes closing slowly. Its body coiled and uncoiled in violent spasms, and then it fell still.

"Harry..." Tom whispered the name slowly, as if it were an incantation, a magic spell. "Harry... Are you all right?"

"I..." Harry gazed down at the body of the basilisk. "You killed the basilisk, Tom?"

"Not yet," said Tom softly. "It's only petrified, turned to stone by its own deadly glance. But now that you mention it-"

The ruby-studded hilt of the silver sword was visible now under the frozen body of the monster, and Tom grasped it with both hands and yanked it out. Without hesitating for a moment, he lunged at the giant serpent and pierced its head with the silver sword. Blood and venom flooded from the monstrous head, but the monster remained frozen.

"There!" Tom stepped back, slightly breathless, and smiled at Harry. "_Now_ I killed the basilisk. You are all safe now."

Harry could feel his mind reeling. "_You_ killed the basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor? _You? _But... But _I_ was supposed to do that! It wasn't supposed to happen like this..." He looked up and met Tom's luminous silver eyes, and his heart gave a strange lurch.

Tom laughed. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this? Who told you that? Sybill? I wouldn't pay too much attention to her, if I were you. You looked like you needed a little help, Harry. That thing would have _killed_ you."

Tom eyed the dead basilisk with a shudder, then pointed his wand at it. "_Confringo!_" The scaly body exploded in a cloud of fire and dust and venom, and broken shards of dark green scales scattered through the air.

"There! That should take care of it, once and for all." Tom spoke lightly, but Harry could hear the slight tremor in his voice. "Serves it right for threatening you like that. I would have loved to have Salazar's basilisk under my control, but the creature's demands were getting rather unreasonable."

Harry stared at the smiling boy in front of him. "But... but you would have sacrificed someone else to gain control over the basilisk, wouldn't you, Tom? Another student, even. Just not... me..."

"Of course I wouldn't sacrifice _you_. We are friends, aren't we?" Tom brushed some dust out of Harry's hair. "You must feel the same way about me, Harry. You were willing to risk your own life to keep the basilisk away from me, after all."

Harry sighed. "Well, I suppose I was."

"Merlin, you look horrible!" Tom regarded him critically. "You've got basilisk blood and dust all over you, and you are all flushed and out of breath. I'm a bit of a mess myself, too. We can't go back to the dormitory like this. Basilisk venom is terribly poisonous; we'd better make sure we get it all scrubbed off. Come on, Harry, let's bring this lovely Gryffindor sword with us and let's go and get cleaned up."

"Cleaned up? I don't think we can, Tom. They lock the door to the showers at night, don't they? I suppose we'll have to use the sinks in the bathroom we just entered."

"The sinks? " Tom's silver eyes glittered. "Oh, we can do better than that, Harry. I'm prefect and Quidditch captain, remember? I've got access to the prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor. We can take a long warm bath there and get all this filth off."

"A bath-?" Harry whispered. "With _you-? _But...No, I don't think that's a good idea..." An image of Tom's pale body, unclothed and glistening with water, entered his mind unbidden, and he flushed deeply.

Tom laughed. "Yes, a bath. Merlin knows we both need one, after all this. You can't go to bed with basilisk blood on your skin. What's the matter, Harry? You just faced a deadly basilisk without flinching, but you seem terrified at the mention of a bath. Do you have some sort of fear of water or something?"

Harry swallowed. "No. No. I'll be fine, Tom." _It's not the water I'm terrified of, Tom... _

_..._

_"White Jasmine!" _Tom whispered, and the door to the prefects' bathroom swung open before them. Harry drew his breath sharply. A velvety night sky dusted with stars was visible through the tall, arched windows, and the full moon cast a silvery sheen over the deep marble pools. Hundreds of candles flickered along the walls, and a sweet fragrance was lingering in the air. Stacks of fluffy white towels and piles of sponges were waiting by the edge of the pool.

Tom waved his wand at the silver faucets, and cascades of bubbly fragrant water flowed into the moonlit pool. Tom muttered a locking spell for the door, and then he flung his wand down carelessly by the edge of the pool and began pulling his clothes off. "We can always cast some cleaning spells on our clothes later," he muttered indistinctly as he was pulling his robes over his head, "but we need to get all this basilisk goo off our skin first. I'll help you scrub it all off..." He threw his robes on the floor and began to unbutton his shirt. Harry's glance lingered helplessly on Tom's skin, so creamy pale in the moonlight...

_This is not supposed to happen. I'm not supposed to be here with him in this silvery light. And he is not supposed to be this disturbingly beautiful. The moonlight is not supposed to caress his pale skin... _

Harry felt his cheeks burn, and he turned around rapidly. He put the Sword of Gryffindor down gingerly on the marble floor and began to fumble awkwardly with his venom-splattered robes, his back turned to Tom.

"What's that, Harry? That golden chain around your neck?" asked Tom softly.

_Damn. The time turner. _Harry tore the time turner hastily from his neck and tucked it into the pocket of his robes. "Nothing. Just a... Black family heirloom... It's quite... valuable..." He undressed clumsily and slid into the warm bubbly water without looking at Tom.

"You've got venom in your hair. Here, let me..." Tom, next to him in the water now, reached for a sponge.

"I can do it myself, Tom." Harry swam away rapidly and stuck his head into the bubbling foam. He reached blindly for a sponge and began scrubbing his head frantically.

Tom laughed. "No, you can't. It's still stuck in your hair. It will burn into your scalp if you don't get it out. Just stand still for a minute..."

A strong arm wrapped itself firmly around Harry's waist, and a hand began to untangle Harry's hair gently.

"Your hair is a mess, Harry."

"It's fine... You don't have to... My hair is always a mess."

Tom's fingers ran through his hair. "No, it's not. Your hair sticks up in funny ways, that's true, but you are _not_ always covered in basilisk blood and fragmented scales. Hold _still, Harry!"_

Harry sighed and held still. Tom was so terribly, terribly close. _Voldemort. I have to remember that he's Voldemort. He will kill my parents. He will kill Cedric Diggory. He will cause endless suffering to so many people... I am destined to kill him. Neither can live while the other... Oh, god, it feels good when he runs his fingers through my hair like that... _

"Harry?" Tom's voice was soft in his ear.

"Wh..what?" Harry's voice didn't seem to be working properly.

"I had a terribly strange dream about you last night."

"You did?" Harry's voice came out as a whisper. "What... What did you dream, then?"

Tom's lips were close to his ear. "I dreamt that you were kissing me in my sleep."

"You dreamt-? Oh..." _Arcturus. Bloody Arcturus._ "I didn't, Tom... It wasn't me..."

Tom spoke softly in his ear. "Don't worry, Harry. It was just a strange dream." His fingers kept stroking through Harry's hair. Then he whispered: "Harry? I know who you are, you know."

"You know... _what_?" Harry spun around in the water, almost dragging Tom under in the process. "What are you talking about?"

The disconcerting silver gaze met Harry's, and a slight blush crept over Tom's pale face. "It took me a long time to put it all together, Harry, but when I caught a glimpse of your time turner, everything finally made sense. You are a time traveler, aren't you, Harry?" A hand brushed slowly over Harry's face. "And I think I know exactly why you are here..."


	6. Chapter 6

**~The Time of Roses~**

**...**

**Summary: **_Harry travels back to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR._

**Warning: **_Rated M for slash (homoerotic romance) between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, with a little interference from Arcturus Black. Whoever _he_ is.._. ***Mature content* **_coming up. If the idea of Harry and Tom as lovers makes you wince, you are reading the wrong story. If that's the case, please be sensible and hit the back button right now. _

...

**Author's Note: **_An anonymous reviewer complained that the spell Tom used in the last chapter sounded "stupid". I'm sorry you don't care for the sound of ancient Etruscan, dear. But no, I don't think I will change it. _

_Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to review this story! I appreciate all your comments and feedback. Since this story is being written and posted very quickly (I promised to have all ten chapters posted by the challenge deadline of September 5!), some parts of the story may feel a little rushed, I'm afraid. But at least the updates will be coming fast!_

...

**~Chapter 6~**

**...**

Harry stared at Tom, aghast. "You... you know who I am? What do you mean?" _He can't know. Even Voldemort can't predict the future _that _well. Even he can't guess that we are destined to kill each other in the future. Can he? _

He gazed, mesmerized, at the sixteen year old boy who would one day become the Dark Lord. The faint moonlight fell over Tom's dark curls, and his pale skin looked almost luminous in the silvery light reflected in the water. _Voldemort? _

Tom brushed Harry's damp hair away from his forehead and touched his scar lightly. "You are a time traveler, aren't you, Harry Black?" he said softly. "You have come here from the future... Oh, don't deny it, I caught a glimpse of your time turner! I have only read about them in books, but I know perfectly well what it was that I saw. Perhaps this is why I have felt so strangely drawn to you from the first moment I saw you. There was something so terribly familiar about you. It felt almost as if I knew you already, even though I had never seen you before, except in my dreams. We _do_ know each other, don't we, Harry? In the future? In _our _future?"

Harry tried desperately to think of something to say, but no words came to him. He backed slowly away from Tom's disturbingly soft touch. Clouds of fragrant foam clung to his skin, and Tom reached out and brushed a wisp of frothy soap gently from Harry's shoulder. Tom's eyes were molten silver in the dim light. "You have come for me, haven't you, Harry?"

"Come for you-?" Harry managed a hoarse whisper. _Oh, Merlin! He knows that I am here to kill him-? But if he knows, why doesn't he kill me first? Why did he save me from the basilisk? That doesn't make any sense... And why is he looking at me like that? _

Tom moved closer. Harry looked down; he didn't dare to meet Tom's glance. Instead, he stared, mesmerized, at the gleaming drops of water that clung to Tom's pale skin and the foamy bubbles that caressed his waist.

"You have come back through time for me. Did you know that I was lonely? You are my friend, aren't you, Harry? In the future?" Tom's voice was a whisper. "Yes, I think I can feel it. You are my companion. My mate, my lover..." The last word seemed to linger in the hair, hovering like a held note of music. Something brushed against Harry's mouth, something warm and soft. Tom pressed a trembling kiss hesitantly to Harry's lips.

_He thinks I am... what? His lover-? But how can he think...? _Harry's mind was reeling as he struggled to fathom this absurd distortion of his relationship with the future Voldemort. But somehow, Harry's body appeared to understand what Tom was suggesting quite easily, even if his mind was struggling badly. Harry's lips seemed to accept the impossible kiss quite readily and respond as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Harry's mind protested furiously: _He is not my lover; he is my mortal enemy, my parents' dark assassin... We are bound together by hatred, not by love... _But for some absurd reason, Harry's limbs appeared to agree with Tom's completely false view of their bond; his arms wrapped themselves around Tom's back, and his fingers brushed eagerly over the deliciously moist skin.

_No, I mustn't touch him... This is _not_ the way things are supposed to be... _Harry's lips parted, and he felt Tom's tongue brush against his own. The kiss felt terrifying, like an _Avada _curse and an _Imperius_ and a _Cruciatus_ all rolled into one, except that it was somehow the sweetest thing he had ever felt. Harry moaned helplessly into Tom's mouth. Tom's hands were roaming over Harry's skin now, and his touch felt like white-hot fire and cooling water all at once.

"_Finally,_" Tom whispered against his mouth. "I never knew what I was longing for so desperately all my life, but it was _you_ all along..." He left a trail of frantic kisses down Harry's throat.

"Tom?" Harry gasped. "You... You and I... It's not..." His brain seemed to make a feverish attempt to communicate something to him; it whispered something feeble and meaningless about murder and darkness and death, but it didn't seem to make much sense right now. Tom's touch sent molten fire pulsing through his veins, and Harry felt the last remnants of rational thought dissolve under the hands that caressed his skin. _He's right. Of course he's right. It was always you and me, Tom... Why didn't I realize that before? _

Tom was reaching down in the moonlit water now, touching him... _Oh. _Harry moaned and pushed himself, helplessly and frantically, against Tom. _Hard. He's hard for me... And I for him._

Tom's voice was breathless in his ear. "You have to tell me, my love... I don't remember our future like you do. How do we make love to each other? Do you enter my body, or do I enter you?"

"I... Tom, it's not..." Tom's touch sent another wave of fire coursing through his body, and Harry gave up. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Tom even more tightly. "You. Inside. Inside me. Now, Tom..."

Tom pushed him up against the edge of the marble pool, making little moaning sounds of agreement. "My wand... I'll need to cast a spell to prepare you..." His hard shaft pushed probingly against Harry's entrance.

"It's not necessary, Tom. All the fragrant oils and foamy stuff in the water are slick enough... Ahhh."

"Harry? Did I hurt you?" Tom's silver-grey eyes searched Harry's face anxiously. "Here, let me get my wand-"

"Don't you dare," whispered Harry. He brushed Tom's face slowly with his fingertips. "Don't you dare move away from me. The wands are much too far away. I need you _now... _I'm ready for you, Tom."

A slow smile danced over Tom's blushing face. "All right, then..." he whispered. He pressed his hands against Harry's hips and pushed forward slowly, burying his shaft completely inside Harry's flesh. Tom's breath escaped him in a trembling gasp. "Oh, Merlin! That's... that's..." He pressed a frantic kiss to Harry's lips.

Harry glanced into the silver eyes. "That's what, Tom?" His words came out like a moan.

"Amazing. Wonderful. _Tight... _Oh, Merlin, so tight..." Tom's breath came rapidly. "I'm not going to last long, Harry. You are so insanely beautiful..."

Harry swallowed. "So are you, Tom." He wrapped his arms tightly around Tom's neck and kissed him on the mouth. He didn't break the kiss even when Tom started moving, slowly at first, then more and more frantically; he lingered against the soft lips as the water swirled around them and Tom cried his name and the warm, silvery water mingled with white seed, Harry's own, and Tom's...

Tom collapsed, breathlessly, against Harry. Flustered meaningless endearments fell from his lips in heaving sighs. His eyes, suddenly dark now in the moonlight, searched Harry's face. "Was that... Was that as good as you remembered it, my love? From our future?"

Harry buried his face against Tom's water-sheened chest, still trembling. "That was... wonderful, Tom."

Tom lifted Harry's face gently and captured Harry's lips with his own. His hands roamed softly over Harry's warm skin. "Good," he whispered. "Again?"

Harry laughed, trying to catch his breath. "Yes, Tom. Again. And again and again... I don't think I'll ever get enough of you..."

...

Afterwards, long afterwards, as they rested amid the piles of fluffy towels by the edge of the pool, brushing any errant drops of water or remnants of fragrant foam languidly off each other's skin, Tom whispered: "How many years would have passed, Harry, until we would have met each other in the future, if you hadn't come back here and found me?"

Harry rubbed the thick towel gently against Tom's damp curls. "A long time, Tom. We will meet each other for the very first time forty years from now..." He swallowed, hard. _Forty years from now, when you kill my parents and leave me with this scar... _The idea of Tom as a Dark Lord attacking a small child suddenly seemed completely absurd. _He is not Voldemort. He will never be Voldemort. He is Tom. Just Tom. _

"Forty years? I would have been alone for forty years before I met you?" Tom kissed him softly on the lips. "That's a terribly long time, Harry. I wonder what became of me during all those years without you?"

Harry looked away. "You became a powerful wizard, Tom. Some say that you were the greatest wizard that ever lived."

"Really?" Tom smiled slightly. "That doesn't sound so bad." Then a shadow seemed to fall over his face. "But I wouldn't have been very happy, would I? Not until I met you..."

Harry ran his fingers slowly over Tom's lovely, pale face. "Everything will change now, Tom. The future will be entirely different now that we have met each other in _this _time. It _has_ to be. The past has already been changed. The basilisk is dead, and you- _What was that?_" Harry whipped around.

Was someone knocking at the door? Yes, there it was again, a little louder this time. Harry cursed and muttered under his breath: "Use one of the other bathrooms, will you? Who in Merlin's name needs to use the Prefects' bathroom in a remote corner of the castle at _this_ hour?" He reached automatically for his robes, but then realized that he had left the Marauders' map back at home, in his own time.

Tom laughed softly. "Perhaps someone else in need of a few hours of privacy?" He reached for his wand and cast a few quick cleaning spells on their clothes.

Another knock came from the other side of the door, this one quite insistent. Harry slipped into his clothes with a sigh and called out: "Sorry! It's busy! Use a different bathroom."

"Harry Black? Is that you?"

Harry groaned as he recognized the voice. Arcturus. Of course. It just _had _to be Arcturus, didn't it?

"Yes, I'm in here. In the _bathroom. _Please go away, Arcturus."

"I'm looking for Riddle. Have you seen him?"

"He's looking for _me? _At this hour?" Tom raised an eyebrow and cast a _Finite Incantatem _on the door. "Come in, Arcturus - it's open."

"Tom? Are you in here, too?" Arcturus stepped into the bathroom and looked around, a baffled expression on his face. His glance fell on the marble pool, whose fragrant waters still gleamed in the moonlight. "You were taking a _bath? _In the night? What?"

He turned to Harry and Tom, frowning. "Oh..." He froze, his glance fixed on the silver Sword of Gryffindor that Harry had picked up from the floor. "What in Merlin's name is _that, _Harry? And why did you bring it in _here? _And why are you here in the bathroom with Riddle?" He stared blankly at Harry for a moment. Then a strange look passed over his face. "Oh. You were going to use the sword to... to..." His glance flickered to Tom, and his voice sank to a whisper. "Oh, Merlin, Harry Black! Are _you_ here for the same reason...?"

"Arcturus?" Tom's voice was gentle. "You are not making a lot of sense right now. Were you walking in your sleep or something? You seem quite dazed."

"I... erm." Arcturus scrutinized Harry's face. "Now, who the hell _are_ you? Damn, I know I should have brought the map..."

"The map?" Harry stared, wide-eyed, at Arcturus. _He can't be talking about the Marauders' Map, can he? Sirius? No, you can't be Sirius..._

"You don't remember who he _is? _He's Harry Black, Arcturus. New Slytherin student, remember?" Tom steered Arcturus gently towards the door. "And, speaking of Slytherin, Harry and I will be going back to our dormitory now to get some sleep. Why don't you go back to yours? You seem tired."

"Slytherin. That's right, you are in Slytherin, aren't you, Harry?" muttered Arcturus. "Which means that you _can't _be... Wait, is that _blood _on that sword?"

Harry glanced down at the Sword of Gryffindor, whose blade still had remnants of dark basilisk blood on it. "Oh, yes, I should probably clean that off before I give the sword back to the hat."

"To the _hat_?" Arcturus' voice was faint. "You want to give the sword to a... hat? Maybe I _am _walking in my sleep."

Harry dipped the sword in the silvery pool and swished it around. "There. Good as new!" He wiped the silvery blade hastily on his robes.

"Just basilisk blood, Arcturus," said Tom lightly. "Harry didn't go around murdering any students in the night, if that's what you are worried about."

"Basi- _what?" _Arcturus stared at Harry. "You killed a basilisk, Harry Black? Here at school?"

"No, Tom did. Down in the Chamber of Secrets before."

Arcturus looked pale. "The monster in the chamber was a basilisk?"

"Hm." Tom regarded him thoughtfully. "So _you_ know about Salazar's monster, too, do you?"

Arcturus was leaning against the wall now, drawing his breath deeply. "Wait, so you found the chamber and opened it? And there was a basilisk in it? Did it... did it kill anyone? Myrtle, is she-?"

"Myrtle?" Tom stared at him. "Who is Myrtle? Your girlfriend?"

"My girlfriend?" Arcturus burst out laughing, but there was a hysterical edge to his laughter. "Not exactly, no." He took another deep breath. "So the basilisk is dead? And... and _Tom Riddle _killed it?"

"That's right," said Harry softly.

Arcturus shook his head slowly. "But that's... that's _not_ how it was supposed to happen..."

"What?" Tom eyed him suspiciously. "That's funny, Arcturus, that's exactly what Harry said."

"Did he?" Arcturus and Harry stared at each other for a moment. Then Arcturus closed his eyes again. "Oh, damn. Perhaps I should have listened to her after all. She _did _say that funny things happen to wizards who meddle with-" He sighed deeply. "That's it. I've lost my mind, haven't I?"

"Come on, Arcturus," Tom led him gently out into the hallway. "Go back to bed now and get a good night's sleep. Then you can see Madam Derwent in the morning and get a good tonic for your nerves."

"Right." Arcturus sighed softly. "A tonic. Yes. Good idea." His glance flickered over to Harry for a moment, and he shook his head slightly again.

"What?" whispered Harry.

"Your hair," muttered Arcturus. "It's sticking straight up in the back."

"I know, Arcturus." Harry pushed his hair against his neck, but it sprang right back up as it always did. "It always does, no matter what I do."

Arcturus looked at him with wide, grey eyes. "Yes, I know. There's no way to keep it down, is there?" He ran his hands through his own perfect black ringlets and sighed deeply.


	7. Chapter 7

**~The Time of Roses~**

**...**

**Summary: **_Harry travels back to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR._

**Author's Note: **_Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback and ingenious suggestions! Now I'm getting all sorts of ideas for future time-travel fics..._

_..._

**~Chapter 7~**

**...**

"Now, it appears..." Professor Dippet rose slowly to his feet, a baffled expression on his round, apple-cheeked face, "that some rather unusual events took place at this school last night, while most of us were sleeping. I have just received a _very_ strange report from our caretaker, the good Mr. Pringle, about an open passageway in the girls' bathroom on the second floor, which was discovered this morning."

The students glanced up from their breakfast with mild interest.

Professor Dippet ran his fingers through his mop of wild white hair. "It appears... It appears that this passageway leads to an underground chamber, which Mr. Pringle suspects to be the fabled Chamber of Secrets, built by Salazar Slytherin himself... Can this be _right_, Mr. Pringle? I was under the impression that the Chamber of Secrets was just an old legend?"

Professor Merrythought, the chubby little Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, got to her feet as well. "That's what most people thought, headmaster, but I just went down there myself with Mr. Pringle this morning to investigate, and there can be no doubt that the underground room is indeed Slytherin's chamber. It's definitely almost as old as the school itself, with all sorts of serpentine imagery carved into the tiles, which suggests a connection to Slytherin himself. There were even remnants of a large monstrous creature down there. There were broken scales of monstrous proportions and dark pools of something that was definitely basilisk venom, mixed with blood..." She shuddered. "I have sealed the chamber up again, and I don't think anyone will be able to open it. I couldn't even open it again myself when I tried."

Professor Dippet's eyes widened. "Slytherin's monster? It's _real_?"

"Absolutely." Professor Merrythought nodded briskly. "But it appears to have been killed last night. Good thing, too! I can't imagine the tragic consequences if a _basilisk_ found its way into the school! Our students would have been in mortal danger. _Someone _must have found the entrance to the chamber last night, managed to open it somehow, and killed one of the deadliest creatures known to wizardkind."

"_Killed _it?" Hagrid looked up from the Gryffindor table in horror. "The poor creature! Who would _do_ such a thing?"

"That's... that's what I am wondering," muttered Dippet. "Surely, it must have been a rather difficult and terribly dangerous thing to do, Professor Merrythought? Did one of the staff-? What's that Horace?" He leaned towards Professor Slughorn, who was gesticulating wildly and attempting to whisper something in his ear. "One of your best students had been asking questions about the chamber recently? But surely, a student couldn't have killed a _basilisk? _We don't teach them things like that, do we?"

Slughorn glanced at the Slytherin table with a smile. "Oh, some of my students a exceptionally talented, headmaster! You really have no idea! Tom, I have to ask you: Are _you_ behind this, my dear boy? Did you open the chamber and slay the monster?"

A murmur ran through the Great Hall, and everyone turned and stared at Tom. He flushed and looked down. "Well, I suppose I killed the basilisk, yes... But I wasn't alone. Harry was the one who found the chamber and opened it, and he risked his own life to save me from the basilisk..."

Slughorn beamed. "Aha! My two brilliant Slytherin students!"

The other teachers looked at Harry and Tom with interest. There was an undeniable twinkle behind Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles now. Harry couldn't help wondering exactly how much Dumbledore had been able to piece together from the information he had been given by the two time-travelers.

Professor Dippet blinked rapidly. "Two _students_ did this? But shouldn't they have been in bed at that hour? What's that, Horace? No, no, I don't suppose a little rule-breaking is much of an issue in this case, no, since your actions spared countless lives... That's right... That was a... a rather marvelous thing to do, boys, destroying such a dangerous beast. I think... Yes, I think the two of you deserve some sort of award for _special services to the school_. Perhaps a nice gold shield? We could keep it in the trophy case. And naturally, Slytherin House will be awarded extra house points as well. Two hundred points apiece would be appropriate, don't you think, Horace?"

Loud cheers and frantic applause broke out. Harry smiled at Tom, who grinned back. The other Slytherin students clapped them on the back and beamed. Even the normally sullen Eileen Prince managed a shy little smile. "Oh, well done, Harry! And you too, Tom. That was a terribly brave thing to do!" Over among the Gryffindors, Arcturus put his head down on the table and groaned.

...

"Black! Harry Black! I need to talk to you. Got a few minutes?"

Alastor Moody was waiting for Harry outside the Great Hall after breakfast, his bright yellow hair in disarray. Harry smiled at the sight of the familiar figure. The teenage Alastor didn't seem all that different from the Mad-Eye Harry knew; he had two good legs now, and he had two normal eyes, but there was a sharp glint in them that reminded Harry irresistibly of the glimmer from his magical eye. Somehow, he wouldn't be surprised to learn that the young Alastor Moody could still see things that happened behind him.

"Yeah, I've got a few minutes before my next class." Harry suppressed a yawn. He hadn't gotten a whole lot of sleep the night before. Even after he and Tom were back in the Slytherin dormitory, they had been much too intoxicated with each other to think of sleeping... Harry smiled as the delicious memories flooded through his mind.

Moody steered Harry rapidly into a deserted classroom and slammed the door shut. He pulled out his wand and cast a series of complicated silencing charms and protective spells. Perhaps Moody's paranoia was an inborn trait after all, rather than a reaction to encounters with too many death eaters in later life, as Harry had always imagined.

"There. That should do it." Moody regarded the door with a look of grim satisfaction. "No one can listen in on our conversation _now, _Black."

"I suppose not..." Harry was rather impressed by the young Moody's charm work; he doubted that even Hermione could have created a more private space for a confidential conversation. "What did you want to talk about, then?"

Moody's small dark eyes glittered. "There is something _very_ suspicious going on at Hogwarts, Black, and I mean to get to the bottom of it."

"Suspicious?" Harry adjusted his robes discreetly to make quite sure that the golden chain around his neck wasn't showing.

Moody nodded curtly. "That's right. What do you know about Arcturus Black, Harry?"

"Arcturus?" Harry felt flustered. Exactly how much had Moody discovered? "Er... Nothing much, really. I just met him."

"Precisely." Moody leaned forward, a fierce expression on his face. "You have never heard of him before, have you? And neither have any of the other Blacks. That's _very_ odd, if you ask me. My impression is that the children of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black learn their beloved family tree by heart long before they are old enough to ride a toy broom. They recite it before bed every night, like other children say their prayers. And yet not one of the Blacks I asked has heard of Arcturus Black. How could that be, Harry?"

Harry flushed. "I... don't know..." _They haven't heard of me either. Surely, Moody must know that, too, if he knows that they haven't heard of Arcturus._

"Right." Moody nodded. "Inexplicable, isn't it? Now, Alphard mentioned that _you_ weren't on the official family tree either, but both Alphard and Orion remember your face."

"They remember... my face?" Harry could feel his mind whirling. _How in Merlin's name can Alphard and Orion remember my face?_

"Yes, they both mentioned your striking resemblance to one of the people in a wedding portrait they had seen at their aunt Cassiopeia's house. Apparently, you are the spitting image of the wizard Cassiopeia's sister Dorea married years ago, before she lost touch with the rest of the family. That wizard was your father, I assume?"

"Er..." Harry tried desperately to remember the tapestry with the Black family tree he had seen at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Hadn't Dorea Black married a Charlus Potter? "Yes, that was my father..." _Or maybe my grandfather? Or my great uncle?_

"I thought so." Moody nodded. "The Blacks didn't want to include someone with a plain sensible name like "Harry" on their precious family tree, did they, even if your mother gave your _her_ last name?"

"I guess they didn't..."

"Well, _that_ makes sense. But why leave off someone with a traditional Black name like "Arcturus", that's what I'd like to know." Moody lowered his voice. "See, _I don't think Arcturus is really a Black at all_."

Harry blinked. "Really?"

"I'm sure of it, Harry. Who ever heard of a Black being sorted into Gryffindor House anyway? That's absurd. The Blacks are supposed to be in Slytherin, like you."

_But Sirius wasn't... He was in Gryffindor, wasn't he? _Harry wisely kept his thoughts to himself.

"But that's not all, Harry. There are some other things about Arcturus that are _very_ strange. Things that are not normal, at all."

"Like... like what?"

Moody looked grim. "Last weekend, a bunch of us Gryffindors were in Hogsmeade. We were all buying sweets, the usual things like cauldron cakes and liquorice wands. When it was Arcturus' turn, the shopkeeper asked him what he wanted, and he asked for _B__ertie Botts' Every Flavored Beans!_"

"He did?"

"He did, Harry." There was a dangerous gleam in Moody's eyes now. "Have you ever heard of Bertie Botts' Every Flavored Beans? Of course you haven't, Harry. Neither have I. No such candy exists. Maybe Arcturus was just confused. But I think there was more to it than that. The funny thing, you see, is that a girl I know, Belinda Botts, who is in fourth year, has a little brother named Bertie. Yes, _Bertie Botts_. He's not even in school yet, but I met him when I visited Belinda over the holidays last year. Sticky-fingered little kid, always sucking on sweets of some sort. And you know what Bertie told me, Harry?"

"No," whispered Harry.

"He told me that when he grows up, _he plans to invent his own candy_. Candy flavored beans, to be exact. And he said that he is _so_ tired of the same boring old flavors; when _he_ grows up, he will make his beans in _every flavor._"

"Oh.." Harry swallowed. "That is... very odd, Moody. A very strange coincidence."

"Isn't it?" Moody's eyes flashed. "So strange in fact, that I have begun to wonder: Is it possible that nobody had heard of Arcturus Black _because he hasn't been born yet?_ Is it possible that he is a time-traveler of sorts, visiting from a distant future, a time when little Bertie has become a famous candy-maker?"

"From the future?" Harry's voice was hoarse. "How... how could that even be possible, Moody?"

"That's what I don't know." Moody sounded gruff. "Maybe there is some way to travel through time. I don't know. I have heard rumors of such things, but I always thought it was just fantasy. But what if it isn't? What if Arcturus Black really _is_ a traveler from a distant future?"

"But why would a traveler from the future come here?" Harry struggled to keep his voice steady.

"Ah. Excellent question, Harry. Has he come here for a bit of temporal sight-seeing? Hardly! I have been keeping an eye on the boy who calls himself Arcturus Black, and I think I have figured out exactly why he has come: To _commit murder! "_

"Wh-what?"

"Ah, yes." Moody nodded grimly. "I can see that you are turning pale at the thought, Harry. Can't blame you for that. Why would a ruthless assassin from the future come here to this time, pretending to be a schoolboy? Who is his intended victim? I don't think there can be any doubt about that, Harry: He means to kill Tom Riddle."

Harry leaned weakly against the wall. "Tom Riddle? But why...?" His voice didn't seem to be working properly, but Moody appeared to mistake his agitation for horror.

"Why? I don't know, Harry. Perhaps to stop him from killing the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets? If so, he failed. It's a chilling thought, isn't it, that this cold-blooded killer has come here to murder a schoolboy? But I have seen the way Arcturus follows Riddle with his eyes, even when he's pretending to flirt with girls. At first I thought he might be... well, _interested_ in Riddle. Tom Riddle is a damn good-looking boy, after all. But then I began to put two and two together. I saw Arcturus doing something _very_ odd the other day, you see. I hid in the bushes, so Arcturus had no idea I was there. He had lined up all sorts of insects and slugs on the lawn, and he pointed his wand at each one in turn and _uttered the killing curse."_

"That's... an unusual way to kill insects..."

"Of course it is, Harry. Of course it is. But don't you understand what he was doing? He was _practicing, _you see. Practicing the killing curse. I even heard him whisper to himself, as the final slug fell dead in the grass: "There. I _can_ do it Tom, just you wait and see..."

"Oh." Harry had no idea what to say.

"And that's why I wanted to talk to _you_ about all of this, Harry. I don't have enough proof yet to bring this matter to the attention of the teachers, and quite frankly, most of them are so naive that I don't think they would believe me if I did. I am keeping an eye on Arcturus, of course..." Harry couldn't help superimposing a mental image of the future Mad-Eye's whirling magical eye onto the grim face of the teenage boy - "... but it would be very helpful to have someone watch over Riddle as well. He's a bit of a loner, Tom Riddle, but he seems to have taken a liking to you. I have seen you two together quite a bit. And you see Riddle in the Slytherin common room at night, and you sleep in the same dormitory..."

_And even in the same bed, last night... _supplied Harry's mind helpfully.

"... so you will be able to keep a close watch on him at all times."

"Right," whispered Harry. "I... I will do that, Moody. I will keep a close eye on Tom. I... I don't want any harm to come to him..." With a sigh, Harry realized that this was true.

"Good." Moody nodded. "I knew I could count on you, Harry. You seem like a good sort. And after that brave thing you did down in that chamber, with Tom, I don't doubt that you will go to any lengths necessary to protect him. You may even let Tom know what I suspect, if you think he is likely to believe me. But if you think he will just laugh it off, you had better keep this to yourself. Just don't let Tom out of your sight. Constant vigilance! Better run along now; Tom's would-be murderer will get out of Arithmancy any minute... Arcturus Black, my foot! I'm willing to wager that he is not even a Black. He looks a little bit like Orion, that's true, but appearances can be deceiving. I wouldn't be surprised if he has changed his appearance somehow."

"Changed his appearance?"

Moody chuckled. "Oh, there are ways, Harry. There are ways. Ever heard of something called Polyjuice potion?"

"Er... Yes, I've heard of it."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's been drinking that, to make himself look more like a Black. Who knows what the true face of that murderer looks like? Well, no matter who he is, I'll make damn sure he won't get within hundred feet of Tom Riddle."


	8. Chapter 8

**~The Time of Roses~**

**...**

**Summary: **_Harry travels back to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR._

**Author's Note: **_Only three more chapters to go! The identity of the mysterious Arcturus Black will be revealed in the last chapter. I think Harry is in for a surprise... Did I really promise to have this entire story done by September 5? *Looks frantically for time-turner*_

_This chapter's for you, **WynterRavenheart! **Enjoy!_

_..._

**~Chapter 8~**

**...**

_From the Diary of Tom Riddle, May 24, 1942:_

_It is night, but I can't sleep. The spring air is keeping me awake. I can feel it even down here, in the darkened Slytherin dormitory; there is no defense against it. There are no windows here, opening up to the fragrant night air, but somehow, I seem to sense it anyway: The air, even down here in the dungeon, is heavy with the sweet scent of distant roses._

_An unexpected sweetness has entered my life, and I do not know what to make of it. I reach out and run my fingers through his soft black hair, and Harry smiles in his sleep. Something tugs strangely at my heart, and I blink back unexpected tears. Harry Black... My friend. My companion. My lover. I think I have waited for him all my life. I used to dream of him at night, ever since I was a young child in the Muggle orphanage. But now that he is here, I do not know what to make of him._

_He is a stranger in this time, a traveler from a distant future. I can't tear my glance away from the golden chain that is wound around his neck. It gleams in the faint light from the candles, glitters against his sun-browned skin. Harry is my lover, my soul. I think I have known that from the first moment I saw him. The first glimpse of his face felt like a memory. I remembered that black hair, those bright green eyes, and that curious scar. I knew him then, even if I had never seen him before._

_I used to feel rather lonely, but now Harry has come back from the future, to be with me. I lean over him and brush my mouth against his skin. I kiss his scar, and it feels rough under my lips. He smells like spring and love, and my heart is singing._

_But there is something that makes me uneasy. I am happier than I have ever been. Harry's presence intoxicates me; I'm drunk with his scent and the sound of his voice. And yet there is a strange foreboding that casts a shadow over my heart. Why won't Harry tell me about the future? Why won't he tell me how we first met, how we fell in love with each other? There is something he is hiding from me, a dark secret he refuses to tell._

_"Tell me about us, Harry," I have begged him, over and over again, but he always smiles and kisses me until I forget what it was that I wanted to ask. Who can remember anything when his green eyes are shining? "Perhaps later," he whispers._

_I study the soft curves of his face when he is sleeping, and I trace his skin with my fingers. Warm. He is always warm to the touch, even here in the damp dungeon. Oh, yes, I know him! I have always known him... But I have so many questions. Why does he look so young? Why does he appear to be a boy like me? If he knows me from a distant future, when I am much older, shouldn't he be older as well? For a while I wondered if he had merely assumed the likeness of a sixteen year old boy. But he hasn't; he is sixteen. I can see it in the way his body moves; I can sense it in the strange innocence of his caresses. How can this be?_

_I kiss my lover from the future, and he reaches for me in his sleep and smiles against my lips. He whispers my name into the night, without even opening his eyes. Why did you choose to find me in this time, my miraculous love? _

_But Harry's wondrous presence is not the only mystery that keeps me awake. For he is not the only time traveler who has arrived at Hogwarts this curious spring; I am certain of it. Arcturus, the anomalous Black who was sorted into Gryffindor - he doesn't belong in this time any more than Harry, does he? I don't know what to make of him either. Arcturus is a stranger in my time, as much as Harry is. Perhaps he knows as much about the future as Harry does. "That is not how it was supposed to be," he said when he learned that the basilisk was slain. How was it supposed to be, then, Arcturus? What do you know that you are not telling me? _

_I know in my heart that Harry has come to this time to be with me, but why has Arcturus come? His eyes are always following me, but there is something in his glance I do not understand. When I first began to notice how often he looked at me I thought, with some unwarranted self-conceit, perhaps, that he was attracted to me. Merlin knows it wouldn't be the first time someone has looked at me like that. I know that look; I have seen it in Abraxas Malfoy's eyes, and Walburga Black's, and Avery's as well. There are even moments when, Merlin help us, Horace Slughorn's glance lingers on me in much the same way... But then I began to notice something else in Arcturus' expression, and I felt a slight flicker of fear. I do not doubt that he feels drawn to me in a fashion, but there is something else in his eyes as well: Revulsion. Hatred. Fear. Where do these feelings come from, and what have I done to inspire them? Will I do him some harm in the future that he wishes to avenge?_

_As I read through these lines that I have written, I can't help but wonder if I am going mad. Perhaps this intoxicating spring air has gone to my head. Can there really be two time travelers here at Hogwarts, one who loves me and one who hates me? The curious thing is that they do not seem to know each other, Harry and Arcturus. They both seem terribly puzzled by the other's presence. Is it a sheer coincidence that they are here at the same time? No, I cannot believe that, even on a sleepless spring night, when everything suddenly seems possible. _

_Harry and Arcturus... When I think about the two of them now, a terribly strange thought occurs to me: Perhaps they are not so different from one another after all, these two mysterious travelers. Both of them have assumed the name of "Black", but neither can account properly for his connection to the ancient wizarding family. They both fly through the spring air on their broomsticks with the same easy grace. And they both seem to have more than a little Gryffindor in them... Arcturus is the only Black ever to have been sorted into Gryffindor. And even though the Sorting Hat placed Harry in Slytherin, and even if he is a Parselmouth like me, the Hat appeared to think that he was worthy of the Sword of Gryffindor... And perhaps the dark longing in Arcturus eyes as he glances at me in secret is not all that different from Harry's love?_

_I have tried to brush this strange thought aside all day. But now, when I sit here in the dim room, with my sleeping lover by my side, I begin to wonder: Are these two travelers more closely connected than it would appear? I run my fingers through Harry's wild black hair, and I remember seeing Arcturus' hand moving automatically to the back of his head and touching his silky curls, as if he expects to find them in disarray. There is something about that gesture that reminds me so strangely of Harry, with his unruly hair. Why does Arcturus remind me so much of Harry?_

_Harry and Arcturus look nothing alike, of course, but there is something about them, about the way they move, about the way they both wrinkle their noses ever so slightly when they try to concentrate in class (which isn't very often). There is something about Harry and Arcturus that is much too similar... I don't quite know how to capture it in words. But sometimes it seems to me that these two boys, the one who loves me and the one who hates me, the Gryffindor and the Slytherin, are somehow one and the same..._

_But does that mean that there is a part of Harry too, not just Arcturus, who hates me, fears me even? No, that cannot be... Why would he fear me?_

_I hear Harry whisper my name again, and he reaches out and searches for me in his sleep. He wants me... The thought sends a shock of desire through my body, and I long to bury myself in him, become one with him. Enough of these curious dark thoughts for now. My lover is waiting for me._

...

"Can I speak to you for a minute, sir?"

Dumbledore put his quill down, blotted the parchment he was writing on, and beamed at Harry. "Of course, my dear boy. Any time! What can I do for you, Mr. Black?"

He waved at a chair in front of his desk, and Harry sank down in it. "I.. I had some questions, sir, and I was wondering if you could help me. I'm feeling terribly confused, you see."

Dumbledore peered at him over his spectacles. "Ah, yes. Time travel does tend to cause a certain amount of confusion, doesn't it, Mr. Black?"

Over in the corner of Dumbledore's office - a much smaller office now - Fawkes fluted softly. Harry smiled at the scarlet bird he has seen so often. "Hello, Fawkes. I wonder how _you_ feel when your world explodes in flames and you wake up to an entirely new life. Doesn't it feel terribly strange? Do you remember who you used to be?"

"Hmmm." Dumbledore regarded the phoenix thoughtfully. "I don't think we will ever know, Harry. Fawkes keeps his thoughts to himself. I have observed, however, that dying and being reborn as a new bird seems to make him terribly hungry." He tossed Fawkes a piece of half-eaten toast from a plate on his desk, and the little phoenix pounced on it eagerly.

"I seem to have messed everything up, sir." Harry ran his hand through his already messy hair and sighed deeply. "You see, I came here to.. to fulfill a certain mission, and I don't think I'll be able to do it. Everything's turned out quite differently from the way it was meant to be."

A little smile hovered behind Dumbledore's beard. "Is that a bad thing, Harry? You have only been here a few days, and so far, you have slain a basilisk, won a Quidditch match, and made a friend. I would say that you have done very well."

Harry shook his head slowly. "But that's not what I was supposed to do, Professor. I'm supposed to... well, to kill Tom Riddle..."

"I see." If Dumbledore found this utterance startling, he certainly didn't let on; he merely adjusted his half-moon spectacles a little. "And you are finding that particular task rather difficult, I take it?"

Harry buried his face in his hands and groaned. "I can't do it, Professor. I just can't. Tom will become a dark wizard, and he will kill my parents in the future, and many other innocent people as well. One of his followers will even kill _you..._ I know I need to stop him, but I can't do it. I even _saved _him from the basilisk, can you believe it?"

Dumbledore regarded him thoughtfully. "Did you, now? And why did you do that, Harry?"

"Because I'm a coward," whispered Harry. "Because I don't seem to be able to kill anyone, even to save the lives of people I care about."

"I'm not at all sure I would call that cowardice, Harry." Dumbledore's voice was kind. "Saving your worst enemy from the basilisk sounds like a rather brave thing to do."

Harry sighed. "It wasn't. I only saved him because..." He swallowed.

"Because what?" asked Dumbledore softly.

"Because I've fallen in love with him," breathed Harry. "I'm hopelessly in love with my parents' murderer, with the boy who will become the Dark Lord."

"I see," said Dumbledore gently. He sat silently for a moment, blue glance lingering on Harry. Then he said: "Perhaps that is not a bad thing, Harry."

Harry let out a harsh chuckle. "Not a bad thing? How can you say that? I had a chance to set the future right, and I have messed up everything, for Merlin's sake!"

"Or perhaps," said Dumbledore quietly, "you _have_ set everything right. Has that thought not occurred to you, Harry?" He reached out and stroked Fawkes' crimson feathers with a long, slender finger, and the phoenix gave a small chirp in response. "I told you that Fawkes was a gift, didn't I, Harry? Do you know who gave him to me?"

Harry shook his head, bewildered.

"This miraculous creature," said Dumbledore softly, "was a gift from one of my oldest and dearest friends. Phoenixes are extremely rare, as I'm sure you know, and almost impossible to domesticate. But for some reason, Fawkes took a liking to my friend and consented readily to live with him as a pet. And then his owner decided to give him to me as a gift, as a reminder of the friendship we once had. We had a falling out, you see, this friend and I, long ago. I thought all the feelings we once had for one another were dead. But it seems that they are not; they always rise from the ashes, much like a scarlet phoenix..."

"Who is your friend, then, sir?" Harry reached through the bars of the golden cage, and Fawkes rubbed his beak affectionately against his finger.

"Ah." Dumbledore smiled slightly. "I dare say his name will be familiar to you, Harry. He is someone who once meant more to me than anyone else in the world. Perhaps he still does. His name is Gellert Grindelwald."

"_Grindelwald_?" Harry stared at Dumbledore. Had he heard that right? "But... But Grindelwald is a dark wizard..."

"Indeed he is," said Dumbledore softly. "But he wasn't always, Harry. At one time, he was merely a boy with golden hair and laughter in his eyes. He was intelligent and witty, and he knew more of magic than anyone I have ever met. He was my friend once. _More _than my friend. He captured my heart, like no one else ever could. But he was drawn to dark magic and dangerous ideas of power, and gradually he began to change... I read about him in the newspapers quite often these days, Harry. Grindelwald has become a cruel man, a dark wizard who is causing a great deal of suffering in the world. He and his followers have instigated a reign of terror in Europe, and numerous lives have been lost. Innocent lives, both Muggles and wizards who dare to resist him. I read the papers, and I mourn for Grindelwald's victims. But a part of me also mourns for _him, _you see, for what he has become. We have not spoken to each other for years, Gellert Grindelwald and I. You can imagine my surprise when he sent me a gift, and such a miraculous gift at that. Perhaps there is a part of him that still remembers _us, _our friendship and what we used to be to each other. I sometimes wonder what will happen to him in the end..."

"You will defeat him in a wizard's duel, sir," whispered Harry. "In 1945."

"I will?" Dumbledore seemed almost startled at this information. "Do you know... do you know if I will... _kill _him?" There was a slight tremor in his voice.

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I don't think you will."

"Good." Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't think I could bear that, even after all he has done... Strange, how irrational the human heart is sometimes, isn't it, Harry?"

"Yes," whispered Harry. "Very strange..."


	9. Chapter 9

**~The Time of Roses~**

**...**

**Summary: **Harry travels back in time to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR.

**Author's Note: **Just to clarify a point from an earlier chapter: When Harry overhears Arcturus Black and John Lupin talking in divination class, it's _Lupin_ who has been dreaming of a baby with turquoise hair, and _Arcturus _who is trying to interpret that dream. This doesn't necessarily mean that Arcturus knows anything about any future turquoise-haired babies. Sorry about any confusion! Yes, John Lupin has a prophetic dream about his future grandson. Poor Sybill would have been so jealous if she knew.

Only one more chapter to go after this! And yes, it will all be finished by the September 5.

...

**~Chapter 9~**

**...**

"Well, Black, I'm glad you are taking my warning seriously. You haven't let Riddle out of your sight since we last spoke, have you? Kept up a constant vigilance, as I suggested?" Moody muttered in Harry's ear as the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams were getting ready for the last Quidditch match of the season.

Harry flushed. "Yes, I've... kept very close to him."

"Good." Moody nodded briskly. "You do seem a bit tired today, Black. Staying awake at night as well to watch over Riddle, are you?"

"Er... Yes, I suppose you can say that." This wasn't entirely untrue; Harry had certainly been looking at Tom for the better part of the night, gazing into those silver eyes while Tom had been doing all sorts of things that made Harry heart race just thinking of them afterwards. Who would have guessed that Parseltongue was such an incredibly arousing language?

A small yellow butterfly fluttered by in the bright spring air, and Moody signaled gruffly to Harry to be quiet until it had passed.

"I have been watching Arcturus _very_ closely," whispered Moody as soon as the butterfly was out of earshot. "He hasn't had a chance to get anywhere near his victim, I can promise you that. Heck, he hasn't even had the chance to go to the loo in peace. I think it's starting to drive him a bit crazy, actually." He chuckled grimly. "He's probably suspecting that I'm on to his sinister scheme, but I don't mind. Let him know that he is being watched! Let him begin to feel nervous! I think he is beginning to feel the pressure a bit. He's getting _very_ jumpy. An interesting character, the assassin from the future! He is full of contradictions. He plans to murder Tom Riddle, an innocent schoolboy, but he takes younger students under his wing. I saw Arcturus showing young Orion Black some new Quidditch moves this morning. Why the hell would he do _that_? Orion is on the _Slytherin_ team! And when Orion got into trouble with the headmaster for a a charm he cast on the Gryffindor table during breakfast - something about Babbling Bacon and inappropriate language - Arcturus actually _defended_ him, even though he ended up getting detention himself for the effort."

"Really? That's rather decent of Arcturus."

"Decent?" Moody frowned. "Well, I suppose so. That boy is a study in contradictions, isn't he? And he's been giving Orion advice on dating, too. I overheard them talking out on the grounds. Arcturus was suggesting that Orion should consider older, more sophisticated women. I have no idea what to make of that."

Harry smiled to himself. Yes, Sirius' mother Walburga was quite a bit older than her future husband Orion, wasn't she? Poor little Orion! Harry recalled the screaming portrait of Walburga at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place with a shudder and decided to be extra nice to Orion. Perhaps Arcturus had felt the same way.

Moody shook his head. "Like I said, Tom Riddle's would-be murderer is an enigma. But I have discovered one or two interesting things about Arcturus in the past couple of days."

"Really? What have you discovered?"

Moody's eyes followed Arcturus, who was pacing restlessly back and forth on the other end of the field. Apparently, Arcturus could feel Moody's gaze lingering on him, for he glanced up rather nervously. "Well, he seems to drink rather frequently from that little flask he has in his pocket. Polyjuice potion, no doubt. But even the potion can't conceal his _very _interesting scar."

Harry's heart did a back flip. "An... an interesting scar?" Sweet Merlin, Moody didn't mean a scar like _Harry's, _did he? Harry stared at Arcturus' flawless forehead. No, there was no sign of a lightning bolt scar. Of course there wasn't. For if Arcturus had been marked with the same scar as Harry, that would mean that... No. Harry's mind recoiled from even thinking about what that could possibly mean.

"What sort of scar?" he whispered.

Moody looked grim. "One of the strangest scars I have ever seen. I noticed it when Arcturus was sleeping last night; the fabric of his shirt was pulled up a little, and I could see the scar quite clearly. At first I thought it was a tattoo of some sort, but this mark was more than just ink. It was black, but it seemed to be burned into his very flesh."

"A mark on his forearm?" Harry's eyes widened. "Like a... like a dark mark?"

Moody nodded. "A dark mark? That's not a bad way of putting it, Harry. I suspect it had been etched into his skin by means of some very dark magic indeed. The scar is shaped like a skull, with a serpent protruding from it."

Harry felt his mind spinning now. Arcturus Black was a _death eater? _How was _that_ possible? A death eater from the future sorted into _Gryffindor_?

"Teams, assume your positions, please!" Professor Wronski beamed at Harry. "I will be keeping an eye on _you, _my young friend. I wonder what fantastic moves you will come up with today?"

Harry sighed and mounted his broomstick. At the same instant, Arcturus mounted his. The two Seekers glared at each other for a moment. Arcturus scowled. He clearly had no intention of letting the Slytherins win _this _match.

Wronski wanted a fantastic new move, did he? Harry grasped the handle of his broomstick tightly. Perhaps a Transylvanian Tackle? No, that move was older than the hills; he would already be familiar with _that. _But had the Woollongong Shimmy had been invented in this time? Or in Arcturus' time?

The three Gryffindor Chasers were lining up in something that looked suspiciously like a Hawkshead Attacking Formation. Harry smiled to himself. The Woolongong Shimmy was _definitely _the way to go.

...

"Fantastic game, Harry!" Tom laughed and patted Harry on the back. "The Gryffindors didn't know what hit them, did they? Did you see how Wronski was taking _notes_ during the game? I think he's Quidditch correspondent for some of the international newspapers. Your new move will probably be known in Australia by the morning!"

"Bloody brilliant!' Abraxas Malfoy shook his head in wonder. "They Gryffindors had no chance at all, even though Arcturus Black played really well. He looked like he was ready to commit _murder _by the end of the match, didn't he? He's a good player, but he doesn't hold a candle to _our _seeker this term." He gazed lovingly at the silver Quidditch Cup that adorned the mantelpiece in the Slytherin common room.

"Was I the only one who noticed that Arcturus was a little distracted by one of his own team's chasers?" Cepheus Lestrange let out an unpleasant little snicker. "What in Merlin's name was that Moody boy doing, shadowing Arcturus like that? He's supposed to chase the Quaffle, not his own team's seeker! You'd think he'd have figured out the rules of the game by now - he's played Quidditch for years!"

"Moody's been trailing after Arcturus for days," put in Eileen. "He acts the same way off the Quidditch field as well. I had actually started to wonder whether Moody's in _love..._" Shrieks of delighted laughter followed from the other Slytherins.

Tom closed his eyes. "_Please, _Eileen. Alastor Moody and Arcturus Black? There are some images I'd rather not have in my head, if you don't mind."

There was a knock on the door, and a nervous first year student stuck his head in. "I beg your pardon, but I have a message for Mr. Harry Black and Mr. Tom Riddle. They are to come to Professor Slughorn's rooms this evening for a small gathering. The Minister of Magic himself will be there, and Mr. Wilfried Bagman from the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

Tom groaned. "Apparently, your new-found Quidditch fame has its price, Harry. Surely, there must be a way to cast a few memory charms on Slughorn and make him forget that the idea of a small gathering ever occurred to him. Do you want me to look into that?"

Harry laughed. "No, that's all right, Tom. I suppose we'll survive one evening with the Slug Club."

"The Slug Club?" Tom smiled. "I rather like that little name, Harry... How very clever of you."

...

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Black." The Minister of Magic, a grave, brown-eyed man named Eldritch Diggory, shook Harry's hand. "Professor Slughorn tells me that you and Mr. Riddle here were the ones who rid the school of the basilisk that was lurking in the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Er... Yes, that's right." Harry accepted the goblet of wine that a passing house-elf offered him.

"Amazing! You should both consider a career with the Ministry. Given the rather disturbing recent developments in Europe and Grindelwald's rise to power, the Ministry has decided to begin training a group of elite wizards to help protect the wizarding world from the Dark Arts. They will be called "Aurors", and they will include some of the best and brightest young wizards of our age. I would encourage you both to apply as soon as you have completed your education. Aurors Black and Riddle - how does that sound to you, gentlemen? Oh, dear. That boy is suddenly choking." The Minster turned to Arcturus Black in concern. "Horace? I think this boy needs a mediwitch."

"I'm all right," gasped Arcturus Black. "I just swallowed my drink the wrong way, that's all."

"There, there." The Minister patted Arcturus feebly on the back. "Now, what was your name again, my dear boy? Black, you say? Oh, you must be related to young Harry here, then. You know, I can almost see some sort of family resemblance between you. I can't quite put my finger on it. Not the hair, not the eyes... No, maybe I just imagined it."

Slughorn beamed. "Resemblance? Can't see I see it myself, Eldritch. But both Harry and Arcturus are tremendously talented Quidditch players. Perhaps it runs in the family. Now, Harry, I should introduce you to Wilfried Bagman; he might be able to arrange for you to try out for the Wimbourne Wasps... Alastor Moody? What are you doing here?" Slughorn stared at the yellow-haired Gryffindor. "I don't recall inviting _you_, Moody."

Moody regarded Slughorn calmly. His hand drifted almost imperceptibly to his pocket, and his lips moved slightly. "Of course you invited me, Professor. Don't you remember?"

"No, I..." Suddenly, Slughorn's eyes became strangely unfocused. "Oh. Oh, yes, I remember now. Of course I invited you, Moody. I invited you because..."

"Because I'm a good friend of Arcturus'," said Moody firmly. "Come on, Arcturus, let's go and meet some people, shall we?"

"Meet some people..." Slughorn blinked slowly. "Yes. Yes, of course. You need to meet some people. Oh, there's Walburga Black, a distant relative of yours, Arcturus. Surely, you must know her? No? Well, then it will be my pleasure to introduce you."

He gestured to a tall, striking looking young woman with long raven hair. "Walburga dear, this is Arcturus, one of the young Blacks I was telling you about. Oh, dear, you seem to have made quite an impression on him, Walburga! Why, I swear he is shivering! Young men are often affected by your beauty, of course, but Arcturus seems to be hit harder than most."

"A pleasure to meet you, Arcturus." Walburga's voice was rich and smooth, and a slight smile hovered around her lips. "Ah, I see that you've got the lovely Black ringlets." She brushed one of Arcturus' gleaming curls with a slender finger. Arcturus jumped backwards in alarm. Walburga leaned forward. "Arcturus... What a beautiful name. We should get to know each other better, Arcturus Black."

"Excellent idea!" Moody nodded gruffly. "I will get you both some hors d'oeuvres and some more wine while you get acquainted."

"Get acquainted... Right..." Arcturus reached weakly for the goblet Moody offered him and emptied it in one gulp.

...

"Well, that went rather well, don't you think?" Moody whispered to Harry a few hours later. "Great work watching Riddle; you haven't taken your eyes off him for a moment, have you? Excellent! I have tried to keep Arcturus as far away from Tom Riddle as possible, of course. It was easier than I thought it would be, actually; Walburga Black has insisted on keeping Arcturus by her side the whole evening. Didn't let him go until he pretended to pass out from all the wine he was drinking. Can't say I can blame him for making his escape; she is a rather frightening lady, that one."

"She is, yes." Harry responded with feeling.

"Better watch out; she is coming this way," murmured Moody. "I think she's got her eye on _you_ now."

"Thanks for the warning," whispered Harry and ducked behind an elaborate ice sculpture. Tom, who was returning with more wine for both of them, looked around, apparently baffled by Harry's sudden disappearance.

Harry flung his invisibility cloak on, crept silently closer to Tom and breathed in his ear: "What do you say we take that wine to go, Tom?"

Tom smiled slightly. "Excellent idea," he whispered.

...

Tom leaned up in bed and stroked Harry's hair gently. "Sleepy, my love?"

Harry smiled and flung his arms around Tom. "Why would I be tired? Just because I haven't slept for more than a few hours a night recently? Your Invigorating charms have kept me awake through most of my classes this week, but I think I am going to need a little sleep soon."

"Do you want me to go back to my own bed?" Tom kissed Harry lightly on the nose.

"Of course not. I want you to sleep right here with me." Harry left a trail of kisses along Tom's throat. "But we don't have to go to sleep right away; the night is still long."

Tom laughed and squirmed away. "Oh, don't tempt me. Seriously, we should get some sleep, Harry. You are starting to look rather tired."

"Unlike all the other Slytherins, who look remarkably fresh and well rested these days," muttered Harry against Tom's neck. "What do you _do_ to them to make them sleep like that? No one even stirs until morning."

"I'm rather good at magic, Harry. What are you doing, love? That's _not_ making me sleepy-"

"What's _that_?" Harry sat up with a start. "I hear someone stirring, Tom."

"Impossible. The Slytherin boys will all sleep until I decide otherwise."

"In that case, that's _not_ a Slytherin boy." Harry leapt out of bed. "That's the door, Tom. Someone's coming in. Oh, where's my wand? Quick, Tom, get yours."

"I can't find it; it's probably lost in this tangle of sheets somewhere. Calm down, Harry. I don't see anyone."

"Neither do I, Tom, but someone is here; I can feel it." Harry looked around the candlelit dormitory, his heart racing. "Arcturus? Is that you?"

Something seemed to stir in the empty air in front of them, and a pale face appeared, surrounded by disheveled dark curls. "Harry? How on earth did you know it was me?" Arcturus dropped his invisibility cloak to the floor and stepped closer, wand outstretched.

"What are you doing in the Slytherin dormitory, Arcturus?" Tom frowned. "And how on earth did you get in? There's a secret password."

Arcturus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. A secret password. Of course _no one _would be able to guess that the password is "Pureblood"... You Slytherins must think that the rest of us are a little slow. Getting into the dormitory was the easy part. Losing Moody - that was the hard part. What's _wrong_ with that boy? He seems to crave my company every minute of every day. Merlin, I hope he doesn't have a crush on me. That would be so terribly awkward..."

"Where's Moody now, Arcturus?" Harry stared at the Gryffindor boy. "You didn't hurt him, did you?"

Arcturus sighed. "Hurt him? Of course not. But it did take me four tries to hit him with the _Petrificus Totalus; _he jumps damn well for such a stocky boy."

"What are you _doing_ here, Arcturus?" Tom eyed him wearily. "And what are _you_ doing, Harry, tearing all the sheets off the bed like that? We'll find our wands in the morning; they've probably rolled down under the bed or something."

"What am I doing here?" Arcturus' grey eyes glittered. "I'll tell you why I'm here, Riddle." He pointed his wand to Tom's chest. "I'm here to kill the Dark Lord."


	10. Chapter 10

**~The Time of Roses~**

**...**

**Summary: **Harry travels back to 1942 in order to kill the 16 year old Tom Riddle. But apparently, someone else had the same idea. Who is the mysterious Arcturus Black? And why is he kissing Riddle? SLASH HP/TR.

**Author's Note: **This is it, the final chapter! Thank you so much for following this story so far! As pointed out in the first chapter, this story was written in response to UbiquitousTime's "The Beginning of the End" challenge. Each writer is assigned the final line of a well-known novel and has to work that line into their story somehow. My line appears as the very last line of this chapter, so as you can gather, my hands were tied, in a manner of speaking. I could think of so many other ways in which this amazing line could have been used for a story, but some of them are... well, rather disturbing. So this is what I came up with.

Thank you for reading this story, and thank you for all the wonderful suggestions and theories. I would love to use some of them in future fics! I'll ask you first if I do.

This chapter is dedicated to you, **UbiquitousTime.** Thank you for the intriguing challenge!

...

**~Chapter 10~**

**...**

"The Dark Lord? I don't know what you are talking about," whispered Tom. "Who is the Dark Lord?" He stared at Arcturus' outstretched wand, his silver-grey eyes wide in the candlelight.

"Put your wand down, Arcturus." Harry threw himself rapidly in front of Tom, shielding him from Arcturus with his own body.

"Harry? What are you doing?" groaned Tom. "Arcturus seems to have lost his mind; he's probably still drunk from the party. Get away so he won't hurt you, my dear."

"Move aside, Harry Black." Arcturus' voice was hoarse. "I am not a cold-blooded murderer, Harry. I don't want to harm _you. _Only him. Tom has to die."

"Harry, I think he is serious," breathed Tom in Harry's ear. "Get out of the way, my love. I'll see if I can talk some sense into him."

Harry didn't move. "I will not let you harm him, Arcturus." He held the young assassin's grey glance with his own until Arcturus looked away.

"I have to, Harry." There was a pleading note in Arcturus' voice now. "It's the only way. He's... he's _Voldemort_. He is the Dark Lord."

"Not yet, Arcturus," said Harry softly. "He is not Voldemort yet. Right now he is Tom Riddle, a sixteen year old schoolboy who has never killed anybody. Are you going to sentence him to death for murders he has not yet committed?"

"What-?" Arcturus stared, wide-eyed, at Harry. "Don't... don't try to confuse me, Harry. I know who he is. And apparently, so do _you_, whoever you are. You know the name _Voldemort_, don't you, Harry? And if you know that name, then you must also know about the atrocities he will commit. This is the only way to prevent all those horrors from happening, Harry. Tom Riddle had to die."

"Harry?" Tom's voice was a whisper. "What is going on here? What is Arcturus talking about? Who is this Dark Lord? How does he know about the name Voldemort? And what are these murders you both seem to have heard about?"

"Arcturus is talking about a future that hasn't happened," said Harry quickly. "A future that _will _never happen."

"A future where I will become a murderer?" Tom's voice was unsteady. "A future where I will be the one you call the Dark Lord? Is all this true? Why didn't you tell me about any of this, Harry? You know exactly what he is talking about, don't you? I can sense that you do..."

"And _you_ know in your heart that I'm speaking the truth about that future, don't you, Tom?" breathed Arcturus. He tightened his grip on his wand. What sort of wand was that? Harry glanced at it curiously. Some sort of dark wood. _Not_ holly, like his own wand. "You _know_ that you have the capacity to commit murder."

"But he _hasn't committed any murders yet!" _Harry stood immovable in front of Tom. "He didn't release the basilisk, Myrtle didn't die, and Tom hasn't even killed his father yet."

"My father-?" Tom's voice was a whisper. "I will kill my _father_?"

"No, you won't," said Harry fiercely. "I won't let you. I'll go and see your father myself. I will hex him until that bastard falls to his knees and apologizes to you for abandoning your mother and letting you grow up in an orphanage, but I will _not _let you kill him, Tom. Don't you see, Arcturus? Everything has changed. The future will no longer be what you and I remember."

"You remember me killing my father?" Harry could feel Tom's hand gripping his shoulder, hard. "Harry, what is this? Is this why you wouldn't tell me about the future? Because you know that I will become a murderer?"

Arcturus shook his dark curls out of his face. There was still a wild gleam in his eyes. "A few individual events may have changed, Harry, but _he_ hasn't changed. He is still the boy who will become Voldemort. Myrtle was not killed by the basilisk, but Tom _will_ commit other murders. How can he not, being who he is? He will begin to gather his death eaters around him, you will see. He will convince poor delusional youths from pureblood families to join him in his mad quest for power. It may not have happened yet, but it will."

"Those things will not happen, Arcturus. I won't let them!" Harry glared at the Gryffindor boy. "I will stay here in this time with Tom and watch over him. He is already changing, can't you see it? _He _was the one who killed the basilisk, remember? Not me. _Him_. With the Sword of Gryffindor."

"_You_ will stay here in this time with Tom? " Arcturus lowered his wand slightly. "You actually think that would _work? _Just keeping an eye on Tom? And why would you do that, anyway?"

"Because I love him, Arcturus... or... whoever you are. Oh, Merlin, I can't stand this anymore. I have to ask: _Are _you Sirius Black, Arcturus?"

Arcturus stared at Harry. "Am _I _Sirius? What the hell? I thought _you_ were Sirius! Well, at least I used to think that, before I began to wonder if you were actually _me... _But that wouldn't have been possible, would it? Even with time travel? If we were both the same person from different time periods, then one of us would have remembered the other, right? Unless someone obliviated both of us... Oh, I'm getting a headache just thinking about it. Wait, did you just say that you _love _Tom Riddle? But that's... ridiculous! I know that he's attractive as all hell, but you can't seriously consider giving up your own life in whatever part of the future you came from just to stay here with _him._ With _The Dark Lord! _Think about it, Harry! You would never see your family again. Well, if you were Sirius, that would probably not be such a terrible loss, but if you are _not..._"

"Don't have a family," said Harry curtly. "My parents were killed when I was a baby."

"Killed?" There was a flicker of pity in Arcturus' eyes now. "Oh. I'm... I'm sorry to hear that, Harry. I really am. That had to be rough on you, growing up without parents. To lose _both_ of them... Wait - how did they die?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Harry swallowed. "They were... they were killed by Voldemort, actually..."

"But that's... that's _me..._ That's the secret name I use for myself." Tom spun Harry around now, and Harry saw the look of horror in the silver eyes. "_I _killed your parents, Harry? No, that's impossible! If I were your parents' murderer, you wouldn't fall in love with me. This doesn't make any sense."

"Of course it doesn't make any sense," muttered Arcturus. He sighed deeply. "Listen, Harry, try to be reasonable about this. I don't like murdering people, but in this case it's absolutely necessary. Don't you see that Tom needs to die? If I kill him now, you can go back to your own time and find your parents still alive."

Harry wrapped his arms around Tom. "But I don't _want_ to go back to my own time, Arcturus. Don't you see that _this_ is how things are meant to be? Everything that happened before, the future that we both remember, is all wrong. _This_ is what was supposed to happen. Tom and I will stay here together, and there will be no murders and no death eaters. My parents will be alive in the future, and so will all of Voldemort's other victims, but I will stay here with Tom. I'm sorry I won't get to meet my parents, but that's the way it has to be. Perhaps they will have another child and name him "Harry" too... Go home, Arcturus! There is no need for murder anymore. Go home to your own time, and you will find that the world will be different from the way you remembered it."

"Go home?" Arcturus sank down on one of the beds with a sigh. "Just like that?" He looked doubtfully at Harry. "Do you really think the future would be different if I went back home right now?"

"Of course it will be, Arcturus. You will have friends and family waiting for you, won't you? Perhaps you can even use the time turner later to come back and visit us and tell us how everything turns out. Let me know if Hagrid ever passed his O.W.L.s, will you?"

"But I was supposed to stop Voldemort..." Arcturus poked his wand absently into the silver sheets of the bed he was sitting on, and a few sparks flew out.

Harry couldn't help smiling at the boy's bewildered glance. "There is no Voldemort, Arcturus. There never will be. There is only Tom, and he is my lover."

"Your lover-? It's that serious between the two of you, is it?" Arcturus glanced at the two of them and ran his hand clumsily through his dark curls.

"_Very_ serious..." Tom kissed Harry softly on the lips. "But Merlin, Harry - we have a _lot_ of things to talk about, you and I. There are so many things I don't understand."

Harry flushed. "Yes. I know, Tom. But we have many, many years ahead of us to talk."

A slight smile danced over Tom's pale face. "Many, many years... I like the sound of that, my love." He kissed Harry again, and Harry could hear a deep sigh escape Arcturus' lips.

"Enough already, you two! Merlin, save it for when you are alone, will you?"

Harry laughed. "Listen, Arcturus," he said mildly. "I know that this can't be easy for you. You were somewhat attracted to Tom yourself, weren't you?"

"Me?" Arcturus' cheeks reddened. "Well, I won't deny that Tom is rather good-looking, but I'm... I'm not _really_ gay, you know."

"You are not?" Harry smiled.

"No," said Arcturus firmly. "I'm not. Or at least not _much_. I'm mostly interested in girls, actually. The only problem is that I haven't met any attractive girls yet. Well, except for one, but she thinks that I'm a pain in the neck."

"Perhaps you should try to convince her otherwise?" suggested Harry gently. "Girls sometimes change their mind about these things, I understand."

Arcturus looked doubtful. "Well, that sounds like a good idea in theory, but I'm not sure I know how to make her change her mind about me. Maybe I should look into a love potion? Oh, better not; that would make her _really_ mad if she found out. She does smile at me sometimes, but most of the time, she refers to me as arrogant ass. She also says I can't _ever _admit I'm wrong about anything." He rolled his eyes slightly. "I think I'd be the first to admit it if I ever _were_ wrong, actually..."

Harry laughed. "Perhaps you can go back to your time and tell her all about your failed attempts at murder, Arcturus. She might enjoy the story, if you tell it to her candidly."

Arcturus stared at him. "What? _Tell_ her that I tried to go back in time and save the world, but ended up looking like an idiot? You think she would _like_ that?" He sat silently for a moment, apparently thinking deeply. Then he shrugged. "Well, I suppose I can give it a shot. Are you _sure _girls like it when you are _that_ honest? Oh, all right, I'll try it. Perhaps I should bring her back some flowers or something, some roses from the past. Girls like that sort of thing, don't they?"

"Probably. That's a lovely idea, Arcturus."

Arcturus stood up and slid his wand back in his pocket with a sigh. "Well, all right. I suppose I will try. But when I get back home, I'd better find Regulus Black playing Quidditch for England rather than torturing for Voldemort. And I _will _come back here and check on you two, so don't you even _think_ about the Darks Arts, Tom."

"I don't suppose I will..." Tom brushed his lips along Harry's neck. "I have a _lot_ of other things to think about right now. Like Harry."

"Or whatever his name is," muttered Arcturus. "Wait, you are not _Regulus, _are you, Harry? That would be funny, wouldn't it, seeing that I used Regulus' hair for the polyjuice potion and his middle name for my alias. I was hoping that would be enough to get me sorted into Slytherin this time, but the hat just laughed at me when I suggested it. I've got a bloody _dark mark_ on my arm, and the stupid hat refuses to sort me into Slytherin, can you believe it? No? You are not Regulus? And you aren't Remus either, are you? You name is really just Harry?"

"Yes, Arcturus. My name is really just Harry."

"Funny. It feels like you should be someone I know, but I don't know any Harrys. I like the name a lot, though. It has a nice ring to it."

"Er... thanks."

"Any time." Arcturus pulled the golden time turner out from his robes and began spinning the dial. "Goodbye, then. Oh, mind if I grab these white roses off your nightstand? Thanks. They'll make a nice present for Evans. Maybe she'll go out with me after all. Bye now..."

The time turner emitted a strange little golden pulse, and the next moment, Arcturus Black was gone.

"Wait_... What_ did he say?" Harry let go of Tom's hand and reached frantically for the vanished time-traveler.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Tom kissed Harry gently. "Merlin, you are white as a ghost. It's... it's rather difficult to process everything that has happened, isn't it? We'll sort it all out, love."

Harry stood frozen and stared at the spot where Arcturus had been the moment before. "_Evans_?" he whispered. "He is going to give the flowers to... Evans?"

"That's what he said, yes. Are you all right, Harry?"

Harry sank down on one of the nearest beds, burying his head in his hands. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "But then... But then... Arcturus must be... Oh, Merlin. Oh Godric. Oh, my god."

"Harry?" Tom ruffled his hair softly.

Harry shook his head slowly. "Oh, Merlin, why didn't I see it before? A Gryffindor seeker with an invisibility cloak? A boy who seems to know all about Voldemort, and who knows Sirius and Regulus Black and Remus Lupin? A boy who is so strangely like _me _that I almost began to wonder if he _was _me, in some bizarre way." Harry burst out laughing.

"What, Harry? Is Arcturus someone you know from the future, then?" Tom seemed completely baffled.

Harry, still shaking with laughter, managed to gasp out: **"_Good grief! It's daddy!"_**

_..._

**_Author's Note: _**_And that was my assigned line, from the novel Candy by Terry Southern and Mason Hoffenberg: "Good grief! It's daddy!" Thanks for reading all the way to the end!_


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